Between Legend and Lies
by Dark Lord Holmes
Summary: Michael Wallace joins Albus Severus Potter for their first year at Hogwarts. All is supposed to be happy, but darkness never goes away for good.; AU After Book Seven (No Cursed Child)
1. Beginnings

**Between Legends and Lies:  
The Journey**

 _See Disclaimer In Profile...  
_

 **Chapter One: The Beginning**

The morning of August 27th was a foggy one in the sleepy little harbor town of Tobermory on the Isle of Mull. The dew was heavy on the grassy hillsides and a slight chill was in the air. The hustle and bustle of the morning commuters could be heard as they made their way past the open window of #2 Albert Street. Michael Wallace, resident of #2, often left the window partially open at night for a bit of cool breeze. Michael was a good-natured, eleven-year-old boy of average height with black hair and blue eyes. Michael jumped up out of bed, excited that morning had arrived.

Only about a month ago, Michael had received a very important letter. The letter was his acceptance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Michael knew he was a wizard. His whole family had been witches and wizards. Michael's parents had disappeared shortly after his birth while on an expedition in Egypt and presumed dead, so he was raised by his Uncle Ben. Uncle Ben was a historian that once searched the temples and pyramids of ancient societies for magical artifacts for the Wizarding bank Gringotts. Now he was resigned to work for the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic. Michael often thought that the disappearance of this parents played a key role in his uncle's current career choice.

Today was the day that he and his Uncle Ben were to visit Diagon Alley to collect all his school things. Michael could hardly believe it. He had been driving his uncle crazy for the last two weeks in anticipation of today. Michael dragged on a t-shirt, trousers, and trainers before dashing downstairs. He would stow away his traveling cloak, which was traditional wizard apparel, until they reach Diagon Alley for the they would be commuting with muggles, or non-magical folk, on the way there.

"I'm ready Uncle Ben." said Michael as he entered the kitchen.

"Very good. We'll catch a spot of breakfast once we reach the Leaky Cauldron." replied Uncle Ben.

Uncle Ben stood up, downed his morning coffee, and put on his fedora. He carefully folded a copy of the muggle newspaper around a copy of the wizard newspaper, The Daily Prophet, then placed it under his arm. Unlike some wizards, Uncle Ben had mastered the art of blending into his muggle surroundings. Living in the mixed population of Tobermory, Mull proved easy for some while difficult for others. Those that struggled to blend in were pointed out by muggles as odd and strange.

Michael and his uncle fell into step with the morning commuters and headed to a small alley a few miles from Albert Street. There they would summon the Knight Bus. The Knight Bus was a magical bus that could transport a witch or wizard anywhere in Britain. Uncle Ben checked the alley way for muggles upon arrival. Once he was certain all was clear, Uncle Ben simply stretched out his wand in front of him. With a pop and a boom, a triple-decker bus appeared before them. Michael was not fond of this form of travel but it was one of the fastest ways to London. An old man greeted them.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus. Where be your destination today?" asked the aging wizard.

"The Leaky Cauldron if you please." replied Uncle Ben stepping onto the bus.

"Very well. Please have a seat."

Michael quickly followed his uncle over to a bench, sat down, then grasped the handle in front of him.

"Take it away Stan! The Leaky Cauldron!" shouted the aging wizard.

With a nod, the driver pulled back an enormous lever and the bus lurched forward at rapid speed. One moment they were blasting down busy streets with all manner of objects leaping out of the bus's way. The next minute they were in spacious country sides. Michael closed his eyes while his uncle hummed merrily. Soon the bus banged to a stop outside of Glasgow where a wizard got off carrying a large trunk. After that, they again burst forward flying as if with wings, throughout Britain till they reached with another great lurch, the Leaky Cauldron. Michael gladly made his way off the triple-decker bus.

"Next time can we please travel by floo powder?" Michael asked his uncle.

Uncle Ben sighed, "I told you before Michael, I have to purchase some today while were here from the wizard goods store, House Feathers."

Michael knew that his uncle had been working a lot of late hours at the Ministry and hadn't been able get out much. As they entered the Leaky Cauldron which was packed full of people, Michael noticed that the usual barman was not there. Instead, a very pretty barmaid was tending to customers. She was tall with flowing black hair and eyes that sparkled like sapphires.

"Close your mouth my boy before you start to drool." chuckled Uncle Ben.

Michael felt his face burn as he bit his lower lip in embarrassment. Hopefully, only his uncle had noticed. After a quick spot of breakfast, they pushed their way through the crowd to a room in the back. Once inside, Uncle Ben drew his wand and tapped four bricks in a clockwise motion on the back wall. Immediately, the bricks began to fold into themselves till they formed a high arching entrance leading into Diagon Alley.

As Michael and his uncle made their way down Diagon Alley he asked, "Why is there a hidden entrance into Diagon Alley from an all wizard tavern?"

"My boy, the Leaky Cauldron may be an all wizard establishment but that does not mean a muggle cannot enter. If that was the case, no muggle born would ever be able to enter to purchase goods." replied Uncle Ben. "On rare occasions, a stray muggle has followed a witch or wizard into the tavern by mistake. For this reason alone, we cannot risk our world being exposed."

Michael and his uncle made their way down the cobbled street, window shopping along the way till they made their way to their first stop, Gringotts. Michael did not enjoy his last and only visit to the Wizarding bank. The goblins that run the bank made Michael feel uneasy. They entered the high double doors of the bank which gave an ominous feeling. The famous warning of dyer retribution to thieves was inscribed in gold on a plaque and hung from the ceiling just inside the doorway. The place with its soaring ceilings, sparkling chandeliers, and marble floors might have even been cheery if it wasn't for the goblins. There was nothing cheery about them.

Michael and his uncle approached a tall desk at which a goblin sat working over a large book. He looked up at their arrival.

"What can I do for you today?" croaked the goblin.

"We wish to enter the family vault." replied Uncle Ben.

"Might I see your key?" croaked the goblin.

Uncle Ben reached into his pocket and pulls out a tiny key then handed it to the goblin which took it with his long fingers.

"Very well. If you would please follow me, I will take you there." said the goblin, holding the key up to a light trying to spot a sign of fraud.

The goblin hopped down from his stool and made his way down a hallway to a cavern where sat an empty rail car. Michael and his uncle followed. The goblin climbed inside, followed by Uncle Ben and Michael. The tiny rail car spun off down the track passing lower and lower into the cave. Finally, the car came to a screeching halt.

"Vault 321" cried the goblin.

The goblin and Uncle Ben got out. Michael made to stay in the rail car but his uncle beckoned him to follow. The goblin pushed the tiny gold key into the lock of a large door. A hundred metallic clicks chimed and the door swung open. Michael had not been inside his uncle's vault before. There wa _s,_ of course, gold galleons, silver sickles, and bronze knuts inside however, there was a lot more gold than Michael had expected. But there were other things too. There were cloaks, pictures, and many strange objects Michael had never seen before.

"These are the treasures your parents and I found over the years that Gringotts did not care for." said Uncle Ben in answer to Michael's unspoken question. "Goblins have certain taste." Uncle Ben gave a nod to the goblin who returned it.

"Are they valuable?" asked Michael.

"Some are very valuable." Croaked the goblin. "While we, the goblins of Gringotts Uncle Ben smiled at the goblin. "There was more to treasure seeking than gold for us. We enjoyed it thoroughly. The memories here are priceless."

Uncle Ben filled a large pouch with galleons and took a small box off one of the shelves then placed them in his pocket. As they left Gringotts, Michael noticed that the goblins stared, whispered, and pointed at his uncle from behind their desks.

"The goblins do not care to much for me my boy." said Uncle Ben in response to Michael's looked of confusion. "I brought much wealth to them in my time. They however, feel cheated that I chose to pursue another career path."

"I don't think they care much for anyone." replied Michael.

Uncle Ben chuckled as they made their way back up the cobbled street. "Ah, Ollivanders. Take this." Michael's uncle handed him a small bag of galleons. "Go inside and choose yourself a wand. I will be across the way."

Michael entered the wand maker's shop which smelt musky. A frail man sat upon a chair behind the counter. Another man bustled about the back of the shop.

"And what might I do for you, young sir?" asked the frail man.

"I'm here to purchase a wand, sir." replied Michael.

"Ah, manners. Rare these days. Step over into the light."

An old oil lamp stood upon the counter near where the frail man sat. Michael obediently stepped forward. When he was fully in the light the frail man squinted over his spectacles. He drew an almighty gasp and nearly fell off his chair. The younger man in the back raced forward to steady him. Michael leaped backwards.

"Ye okay Mr. Ollivander sighed deeply patting the younger man on the arm. "Yes... I will be alright." Mr. Ollivander turned back towards Michael. "What's your name boy?"

"Michael, sir. Michael Wallace. Is something wrong, sir?" asked Michael tentatively.

"I thought... I was... mistaken." replied Mr. Ollivander. "No matter. Jeremy, let's find young master Wallace a wand."

The young man stepped forward and examined Michael while scratching his chin. Mr. Ollivander however, continued to stare at Michael with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

"Right then." said the young man and he turned down one aisle then another. When he finally emerged, he was carrying three rectangular boxes. He laid the three boxes on the counter and opened them.

Inside each box was a wand. One at a time he picked up the wands and handed them to Michael. The first wand did nothing when he waved it as instructed. The second caught the cuff of his trousers on fire. The third shot water out the end in a lazy drizzle. The young man gathered them back and fetched more wands for him to try.

After one half hour had passed with no luck, Mr. Ollivander spoke. "Jeremy, fetch box number 13." Jeremy shot Mr. Ollivander a funny look then obeyed. He returned with an age worn box. "Try this one Mr. Wallace."

Michael took the wand from Mr. Ollivander. Immediately, he felt a warmth in his hand where he held the wand. Michael flicked the wand and a shower of red and gold sparks flew high into the air then rained down landing on the tables and counter tops.

"Finally, the wand has a wizard!" said Ollivander.

"I don't understand." said Michael.

"The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Wallace. That wand of willow and dragon heart string, ten and a half inches, nice and supple, has sat on these shelves longer than I have been alive."

"But it feels like brand new." replied Michael.

"Wands, Mr. Wallace, are magical instruments. They do not age as we do but can last hundreds of years." replied Ollivander. "The tree from which that wand was made was a rare whomping willow. The seedling of that tree stands at Hogwarts where you now prepare to go."

Michael looked down at his new wand and felt a bit of pride.

"Found you a wand?" asked Uncle Ben as he stepped into the shop and closed the door.

Michael held up his wand for his uncle to see.

"Ah, Mr. Wallace." says Mr. Ollivander. "Blackthorn and unicorn hair, eleven inches, unyielding, if memory serves me."

"Hello, Mr. Ollivander." replied Uncle Ben with a smile. "Your memory is as good as ever. Ready Michael?"

Michael placed five galleons on the counter and waved farewell to Mr. Ollivander and his assistant as he left the shop. Michael noticed that people were staring at him from behind books, around corners, and even out store windows. It wasn't everyone but a few people here and there. Whenever Michael made eye contact they just smiled and nodded. Michael noticed that his uncle nodded to them when he spotted them.

"Who was that?" asked Michael as one wizard nodded at them and his uncle returned the gesture.

"An old friend of mine. We used to work together but now he works in another department at the Ministry." replied Uncle Ben.

"I guess you know a lot of people." said Michael thinking of the dozen or so that had smiled and nodded at them.

"Yes, my boy I do. Happens when you've gotten around as much as me."

An hour later, just as they were finishing their shopping, a man hailed them from the end of the street and began walking their way.

"Ben! Good to see you. Michael! How are you?"

Michael finally recognized him. It was his second cousin, Eric Wallace.

"Oh, doing well Eric." replied Uncle Ben, embracing his cousin then patting him on the arm. "How is your mum and dad? I never hear from them anymore."

"Oh, they stay busy. Retirement is a permanent holiday for them." Eric rubbed the back of his head. "To tell you the truth, I haven't seen them for a while. The last letter I received from mum says they were in the south of France."

"Well, with your career I wouldn't imagine you get much time to visit. Incidentally," Uncle Ben started scratching his chin "what brings you to London?"

"Ben, I guess you'll get to be the first in the family to know." replied Eric with a smile.

"Know? Know what?" asked Uncle Ben.

"I'm changing careers." said Eric, his smile broadening. "This year I join you Michael, at Hogwarts!"

"What!?" said Michael in disbelief.

"Congratulations!" Exclaimed Uncle Ben, shaking Eric's hand vigorously. "Which topic?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts." replied Eric.

"Of course, naturally. I expected as much." replied Uncle Ben.

"Listen, I would love to stay and chat but I must be off. I have a lot to do to be ready for the start of term." Eric turned to look at Michael. "I'll see you in class."

He gave Michael a wink, then bid farewell to them as he headed down the cobbled street of Diagon Alley.

"What was cousin Eric's career?" asked Michael as he and his uncle stopped at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor for a sundae.

"He was a Private Handler." At Michael's blank expression, Uncle Ben continued. "Handlers are wizards that hunt down dangerous magical beasts and neutralize them. The Ministry have a department dedicated to this but your cousin would have no part of them so he freelanced. He was so good at this that the Ministry would often use him on extremely tough cases. He specialized in werewolves."

"When you say freelanced, you mean people hired him to deal with werewolves and such?" asked Michael, completely impressed.

"Oh yes. Other countries would often contract Eric in to take care of all manner of beasts. Like I say though, werewolves are what made him famous. Popular with the witches too, I might add." Eric was a bit of pride for Michael's uncle.

"Now he's going to teach at Hogwarts?" asked Michael.

"Yes, my boy, he is. You see, Eric has been teaching for a while now. Readying the next group of Handlers to take on the grueling task."

"Why would anyone _want_ to do it?" asked Michael for he could not see such a dangerous position being in high demand.

"Fame and fortune. Simple as that. Being a Handler is very dangerous thus there are very few. For the same, Handlers are paid very well and are often wealthy. The ones that survive become famous." Uncle Ben finished his sundae and looked at Michael with a grin.

"No worries." said Michael. "I have no interest in that career."

"Good." said Uncle Ben as he rose from his chair and stretched. "Now, if your done with your sundae, I have another surprise for you."

Michael stood up eager to hear what his uncle had planned. Uncle Ben was very good at making outings interesting and fun. Once Michael and his uncle had simply made to go about Glasgow for some rare books and had ended up touring a very old and enchanted abbey.

"Follow me." said Uncle Ben.

Michael gathered up his newly purchased belongings and followed his uncle, not up the cobbled street back towards the Leaky Cauldron but down it the way they came. They traveled a moment before stopping in front of the Magical Menagerie.

"Did we forget something?" asked Michael as they had already been there to purchase some of his school supplies.

"Yes, my boy, we did. You sir, still need a pet." replied Uncle Ben with a smile.

"I thought I was just going to use the family owl, Gulp." replied Michael.

"I gave it some thought and decided that you need a proper pet. Shall we go in so you can choose?" replied his uncle.

Michael wasted no time but quickly entered the store with excitement. As he entered, a sign that read "Pets" hung from the ceiling with an arrow pointing to the far wall. The wall was lined with all manner of owls, cats, frogs, rats, and even spiders. Michael approached, studying each specimen carefully, while a kindly looking witch smiled at him.

"Starting Hogwarts, are we?" asked the witch and Michael nodded.

"We already have an owl." said Uncle Ben. "How about a nice rat."

Michael looked at the rats who are standing on hind legs in their cage looking at him.

"Might I make a suggestion?" asked the witch. She walked over to a cage in which two cats sat. "I would recommend this one." She pointed to the handsome tom.

Michael considered the cat and it looked as though the cat was considering him.

"What's his name?" asked Michael.

"He answers to Sampson." said the witch.

Michael opened the cage then called to the cat. The cat obeyed immediately, jumping down and purring as it rubbed against his ankles. Michael payed the witch two galleons for Sampson and another galleon for cat food. Michael's uncle chuckled as he warned him to properly train his new feline companion or he could be paying for a new owl next time.

"Now, across the street for the next surprise." said Uncle Ben.

They walked across the street into a café of sorts. There were tiny tables that lined one wall of the establishment while a bar with stools and a huge mirror lined the opposing wall. Booths, smaller than an average man's booth sat nearest the front window. Michael assumed they might be for goblins. The whole of the establishment was well lit and cheery. A tall thin wizard bartender was happily serving his customers while joking about the weather. He looked to be about Uncle Ben's age with brown hair flecked with silver.

"Hello Ben." said the bartender. "It's over here."

He pointed to the end of the bar. At the end sat an old mug.

"Thanks Frank." replied Uncle Ben. "I'll send my house elf to collect our things. Michael, stow your wand inside your robes."

Michael did as he was told. "What's going on uncle?"

"The second surprise of the day. I've registered us a port key for our return." said Uncle Ben.

"Wow!" exclaimed Michael. "I've never traveled by port key!"

"All you have to do my boy is simply touch the mug."

Michael's uncle withdrew his wand and touched the mug with the index finger of his free hand. Michael touched his index finger and closed his eyes tightly.

"It won't hurt Michael." said Uncle Ben. "Ready?" Michael nodded. "Okay. On the count of three. One... two... three!"

Uncle Ben tapped the mug which began to glow a bright blue. Suddenly, Michael felt a hook like sensation just behind his navel as he, his uncle, and the mug started to spin. Faster and faster they spun. Everything seemed to disappear around them then out of nowhere the flat of #2 Albert Street appeared around them as though it had swallowed them. Michael felt the floor rise to meet his feet and he stood in his uncle's study.

"So?" asked Uncle Ben smiling.

"That was bloody brilliant!" replied Michael.

Michael looked down at the mug that glowed bright blue again then disappeared.

"Where'd it go?" asked Michael.

"Frank wasn't going to let us keep one of his mugs." replied Uncle Ben. "Wollie!"

A tiny house elf appeared with a loud _crack_.

"Please go to Frank's Tea Cup and collect our goods." said Uncle Ben.

The little elf bowed low then with another _crack_ was gone. Moments later the elf returned with all their goods including Sampson who hissed and jumped out of the elf's arms. Apparently, the cat did not care for apparating. Uncle Ben sat down to finish reading the morning paper while Wollie the house elf put the goods away in their proper place.

"Welcome to your new abode." said Michael to Sampson as he purred softly near Michael's left leg.

Michael withdrew his wand and twirled it in his fingers. The same feeling of warmth seemed to emanate from the wand as it did in Ollivander's shop. Finally, Michael's tie to the greater Wizarding world was complete. He held it up and green sparks trailed from its tip as he twirled it. No more practice wands. Now, at Hogwarts, he would do magic. _Real_ magic.

* * *

 **A/N: Ah, the first chapter. Please review and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Sorting Shock

**Between Legend and Lies:  
The Journey**

 **Chapter Two: Sorting Shocks  
**

Friday was a complete whirlwind. Michael found that his time table was thoroughly confusing and he was late for almost every class. With moving staircases, a hallway that just went in a circle, trick steps, and a very mischievous poltergeist, it was clear that traversing Hogwarts was not going to be easy.

The weekend was spent with his new friend, Robbie, roaming the castle learning the hallways and corridors, checking out the trophy room, then exploring the grounds. Sampson followed for a while but found the mice of Hogwarts much more interesting. Michael tried to get Albus to join them but he wasn't interested.

"Probably been given the GRAND tour already." said Robbie as he and Michael walked down to the lake.

"Try backing off him a little, won't you." replied Michael. "He's going through a rough transition."

"What's so rough about being in Hufflepuff?" asked Robbie.

"Having to wear a blanket over your head in public for the shame." said a sneering Slytherin boy leaning against a nearby shade tree. "At least the Potter boy has some pride. I guess you two already had that beaten out before you got here." Three other boys with him wearing Slytherin robes laughed.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" asked Robbie, stopping dead in his tracks and staring at the boys.

"Sorry. How rude of me. My name is Justin Goyle." replied the boy. "And you are?"

"I'm Robbie Hughes and he's Michael Wallace." said Robbie jerking a thumb at Michael.

"Goyle... Goyle... that name sounds familiar." said Michael. "Oh wait, never-mind... I was thinking of a boil." Robbie laughed hard but Goyle clinched his fists.

"Amusing." replied Goyle. "Embrace your new celebrity while you have him. My bet is he'll drop out of school before the end of term or at least one can hope." The sneering smile returned as he said it.

"Now Justin" said a tall blond boy striding up to them wearing Slytherin robes "let's not get off to a bad start. We must observe manners."

Michael eyed the newcomer with suspicion. He also noticed the Malfoy boy sitting under a nearby tree apparently reading a book but had stopped to watch with mild interest.

"My name is Fredrick Syrwin, second year. You must be Michael Wallace. My father works with your uncle at the Ministry."

Syrwin extended his hand and Michael shook hands with him briefly. Michael did not like the confidence, even arrogance that Syrwin displayed. Goyle's look of displeasure only lasted a second for Syrwin's smirk turned to one of mock disgust.

"I forgot" said Syrwin "you live amongst Muggles. I presume you wash but I'll have to cleanse my hands just to be safe."

Goyle broke out into ruckus laughter. Michael felt his face burn with anger.

"And under what rock might you live as to stay away from Muggles?" asked Michael, arms folded.

"Though a rock would most likely be a better option than yours' Wallace, my family choose to live only amongst the magical community. It grants us certain liberties that you, I'm afraid, are not." said Syrwin with an evil grin.

"Ah, you must live in Spoldice." said Robbie.

"And you are?" asked Syrwin.

"Robbie Hughes."

"Well Hughes, you are correct. Though I doubt you've ever visited." replied Syrwin in a lofty tone.

"Where's this Spoldice?" asked Michael, looking at Robbie.

"It's an all magical community located somewhere along the southeastern shoreline." replied Robbie. "It's says to be a pure-blood only community established right before the start of the Wizarding wars."

"You know your history." said Syrwin. "Very good, especially for no doubt a" Syrwin cleared his throat "Muggleborn such as yourself."

"My dad works for the Ministry and my mum's a witch who works for Flourish & Blotts." said Robbie firmly.

"True but unless I'm mistaken, the whole lot of your grandparents are Muggles. Correct?" said Syrwin.

"Your family still keeping a registry around Syrwin?" asked Michael as he clinched his wand in his pocket. "Just curious, how does an entire community become completely magical in this day and age? Isn't it illegal for a wizard to persuade or force a muggle to leave a dwelling by magic?"

"Why so interested in my family's township Wallace?" asked Syrwin, his eyes narrowing.

"Oh, nothing really. Just grasping the bigger picture, that's all." replied Michael not taking his eyes off Syrwin who was holding something inside his robes.

"Let's just go." said Robbie to Michael and motioned to leave.

"It's a good thing Wallace that your uncle is raising you." said Syrwin. "At least your parents aren't here to be embarrassed by your actions."

The blood thundered through Michael's brain. Rage and anger more powerful than anything he had ever felt before boiled up inside him. He wanted to inflict as much harm as possible! He drew his wand and pointed it at Syrwin before the latter can react. The words flew from his lips before he knew what he is doing. " _Stupify!_ " The spell exploded from the end of his wand like a cannon blast. The red light hit Syrwin in the stomach and completely lifted him off the ground before slamming him into the nearby tree. The Malfoy boy leaped out of the way just in time to avoid the collision. Goyle and the other Slytherins made a run for it.

"What the ruddy hell is going on!" boomed a voice from behind Michael who turned in horror to see Professor Hagrid striding towards him.

The massive man towered Michael who stood petrified with fear. Robbie looked white as a sheet. Syrwin was attempting to struggle to his feet but fell back down.

"Stow that wand away boy!" boomed Professor Hagrid looking down at him.

For a split-second Michael thought he saw the same look of mingled surprise and terror that he had saw on Ollivander's face in the expression of Professor Hagrid but in a blink, it was gone. Behind Professor Hagrid came running another boy who grabbed at his own side gasping for breath as he caught up. It's Potter! Michael did not know whether to feel better or worse till Albus Potter spoke.

"Hagrid" said Potter still gasping for breath. "They're Hufflepuffs, in my year."

"Syrwin!" boomed Professor Hagrid. "Get up to the castle. Go see Madame Pomphrey if you feel the need to be sick still in an hour. Go!"

Syrwin who had just gotten sick by the tree looked up and gave them a nasty look before heading to the castle. The Malfoy boy stared at Michael with real interest now as though he was studying him before turning and heading back to the castle, no doubt lest he got into trouble too.

"You two" said Professor Hagrid pointing at Michael and Robbie "follow me."

They began walking to what looked like an over-sized cabin. Michael did not dare look at Robbie. Albus Potter walked along side Professor Hagrid. When they reach the cabin door he motioned them inside and told them to sit down. The chairs were four times the size of regular chairs. Everything was four times the size of regular things now that Michael looked around proper.

"That was amazing and stupid all at the same time." said Professor Hagrid while pouring Michael a large cup of pumpkin juice roughly the size of a pitcher.

"Professor?" began Michael but he was cut off.

"You call me Professor during lessons. Right now, it's just Hagrid."

"Yes sir." replied Michael and Robbie nodded.

"Now, what be your names?" asked Hagrid.

"This here is Michael Wallace and Robbie Hughes." said Albus Potter pointing to the boys in turn.

Finally, Robbie found his voice. "Michael! How did you do that?"

Michael looked from Robbie to see that Hagrid and Albus Potter were both starring at him waiting.

"I don't know." began Michael. "My uncle taught me the spell using a practice wand but that's the first time I've ever really used it." Michael amazed himself in the process. His first ever spell and it worked. Worked too well. The fear of what he had done was beginning to overwhelm him.

"Uh, Hagrid, will I be expelled?" asked Michael.

"Of course not. Don't be foolish." chuckled Hagrid. "You think you're the first to jinx young Syrwin? All the same, you shouldn't go jinxing other students."

"He deserved it." said Robbie. "Way out of line about your parents, mate."

"What did he say?" asked Albus Potter.

Michael sighed, "You see, my parents are dead. He... it doesn't matter." Michael looked down at the floor.

"Well, no worries about him now." said Hagrid. "I would imagine that he'll watch his tongue while around you from now on. Like I said earlier, that was a fine bit of magic."

"Hagrid, sir," began Robbie "is this your house?"

"This is the living quarters for the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." replied Hagrid. "I have held that position since I was seventeen. Professor Dippit, who was the Headmaster then, enlarged the place to better suit me."

"You hold two positions here at Hogwarts?" asked Michael who was glad to see the conversation change.

Hagrid puffed out his chest with pride and nodded. "That's right Michael. I'm the only teacher here to do so."

They sat and talked for a while about Hogwarts, Quidditch, and the Forbidden Forrest which Hagrid knew much about. When Hagrid offered them a large piece of cake which almost cracked one of Michael's molars, they excused themselves and headed back to the castle for supper. Albus Potter walked back with them cutting jokes and laughing at Robbie's. Michael felt that this might just be the start of a good friendship.

When they reached the west entrance to the castle which was a long-suspended bridge overlooking a gully, there stood Professor Longbottom, arms folded, and looking dead at them. His expression made the boys cringe.

"Professor Brite said that you attacked one of the Slytherins Mr. Wallace. Is this true?" asked Professor Longbottom.

"Yes sir, I –" began Michael but Albus cut him off.

"Neville, I mean Professor Longbottom, Michael was provoked. That Slytherin bloke made rude remarks about Michael's dead parents."

Professor Longbottom looked directly at Michael, ignoring Robbie and Albus. "Is that what happened? Did he provoke you?"

"Yes sir." replied Michael now looking at Professor Longbottom's shoes.

"Well, unfortunately that's no excuse. Even though it was provoked I will still have to give you detention." said Professor Longbottom.

"What!" blurted Robbie.

"Mr. Hughes, I'd advise you to hold your tongue lest you join Mr. Wallace." replied Professor Longbottom sternly.

"But Professor..." started Albus but Professor Longbottom held up his hand and he fell silent.

"Detention is the least punishment I can give out under these circumstances, Mr. Wallace." Professor Longbottom placed a hand on Michael's shoulder. "Best find a way to control your anger. I dear say that Mr. Syrwin won't be the last to upset you. I'll arrange for you to serve your detention Tuesday night with Professor Hagrid."

Professor Longbottom turned and headed into the castle across the crooked bridge. Michael stood there, frozen in place. Michael was so shocked by this he did not know what to do. Not even a week and he already had detention!

"Snap out of it Michael." said Robbie.

"At least he gave you detention with Hagrid." said Albus.

"Detention!" gasped Michael. "My uncle is going to flip his nut!"

"Maybe, but wait till this gets out." There was an unmistakable air of excitement in Robbie's voice.

"When what gets out?" asked Michael, dragging himself away from the thoughts of what awful things Hagrid might have him doing for detention Tuesday night.

"When it gets out that you dueled a Slytherin and won!" replied Robbie excitedly. "Slytherins are notoriously really good at dueling, especially a second year and you stunned him after only your third day at school!"

Michael did not know if this made him feel better or worse. He was still amazed by what he had done but also terrified.

Albus walked over and slapped Michael on the shoulder, "Stop worrying mate. Let's just go to the Great Hall for supper. How many people could possibly know."

As they entered the Great Hall, Michael wondered how many people did Syrwin tell for every eye at the Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor table seemed to find him. They walked toward their house table to sit but halted when the entire Hufflepuff table broke into applause. Even a few whistles. The Gryffindor table joined them in applause till the Headmistress called for quiet. The Slytherins sat sour faced and the Ravenclaws looked moody.

"Way to go!" said Greg Foster as Michael took a seat at the table.

"Unbelievable!" exclaimed another boy that Michael did not know yet.

"About time too." said Selena Goldstein. "Slytherins have been getting the best of Hufflepuffs for too long. Too bad it takes a first year to do it."

"What I would like to know is why." said Mary Clearwater in a not so friendly tone.

"Goyle and Syrwin were cracking jokes about Michael's parents." replied Albus angrily.

Mary was taken back by Albus' remark.

"When did you two become mates and why would Syrwin make jokes about Michael's parents?" asked Mary while she stared at Albus.

"I'm a Hufflepuff." replied Albus. "Of course, we're mates."

"My parents are dead Mary." said Michael. "That's why he was –"

"Being a total prat!" Interjected Greg as he glared over at the Slytherin table.

As they all ate, Mary and Robbie discussed what things should be done to Syrwin and why stunning him wasn't enough. When supper was over, Michael headed back to the common room with the rest of Hufflepuff. As he went he made eye contact with a Ravenclaw. He smiled but she frowned and looked away.

"So why are the Ravenclaws upset?" Michael asked Selena Goldstein as they entered the common room.

"Ravenclaws and Slytherins have been chummy for years." replied Selena.

"Oh yes, they believe they're the best houses in Hogwarts." said Mary.

Michael sat down on the couch nearest the fireplace. Sampson walked across the back of the couch and dropped lightly into Michael's lap. Albus flopped into a chair and propped his feet up on a nearby table. Robbie laughed as Selena levitated Albus over to another chair.

"And Gryffindor?" asked Michael while he rubbed Sampson's head.

"Gryffindor and Hufflepuff get along well, as is expected. You saw how Gryffindor applauded your detention worthy actions against Syrwin." said Mary with a smile now sitting next to Michael.

"It doesn't hurt that Albus' dad erected a statue to Cedric Diggery, the Hufflepuff Tri-Wizard Champion, in the Hogwarts courtyard two years ago." said Selena.

"Or that Professor Longbottom is our head of house." said Robbie. "He was a Gryffindor and a great hero of the last Wizarding war."

Selena smiled and nodded in agreement at Robbie.

"As a prefect Michael, it is my duty however to warn you against further actions such as stunning Syrwin." said Selena with a serious tone.

"Professor Longbottom has already warned him and" stressed Albus "given him detention. I think he got the point."

Selena raised an eyebrow in Albus' direction. Albus gave her a look of mock innocence.

Albus was bored with the topic of conversation and challenged anyone in the room to a game of wizard chess. To Michael's surprise, Selena answered the challenge.

Albus laughed, "There's no brooms in wizard chess Selena. Are you sure you still want to play?"

"Chess helps me think and prepares me for Quidditch." replied Selena coolly while holding a black pawn up to examine it.

As Selena and Albus played, Michael and Robbie talked and laughed while watching the game. Selena was good at wizard chess. Albus however was definitely the better player. Michael rolled his eyes as they turned in for the night while Albus recounted his win over Selena for the fourth time.

"Give it a rest." said Robbie who clearly had heard enough.

"That's fine." replied Albus, pulling on his pajamas. "Play you Tuesday night then? We'll have time while we wait for Michael to get back from detention."

"Thanks mate!" said Michael, as he fluffed his pillow with his fist. "You're so keen on it, why don't you take detention for me!"

"Wish I could" replied Albus with mock sadness "but that's not how it works."

Michael laid down and drifted off to sleep as a thunderstorm rolled in, pounding the dorm room windows with rain.

The next morning Michael, Albus, and Robbie made their way down to Herbology across the sodden grounds. Robbie took pleasure in splashing the puddles along the way. The Ravenclaws were already in Greenhouse One when the Hufflepuffs arrived. Professor Longbottom was placing pots on each table that looked as though the roots of a plant were growing up out of the dirt the wrong way. He waved his wand and the last pot settled neatly into place. Michael recognized the plant from hiking with his uncle who would point out odd or rare ruffage along the way.

"The pots that sit before you" began Professor Longbottom "are this term's project. Can anyone tell me what the name of this plant is?"

Michael raised his hand. "Mr. Wallace?"

"It's a Saporas plant, sir"

"Correct Mr. Wallace. Five points to Hufflepuff." Albus smiled and nudged Michael as Professor Longbottom continued. "Can anyone tell me what this plant's magical qualities are if any?"

Michael raised his hand again but this time so did a couple of other students from both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.

"Miss Chase?"

"The plant is used to make Skelligrow but it has no true magical qualities." replied Megan Chase of Ravenclaw.

"No true magical qualities." repeated Professor Longbottom. "I'm sorry Miss Chase that is incorrect. Anyone else?"

Michael raised his hand again and Chase glared at him.

"Yes Mr. Wallace?" said Professor Longbottom.

"Sir, the plant is used to make Skelligrow but it's petals contain strong magical qualities used in a variety of potions." replied Michael.

"Correct again Mr. Wallace. Another five points to Hufflepuff. Now, as you can see" Professor Longbottom levitated one of the potted plants into the air which rotated slightly "the Sapora plant does not currently contain any buds or petals. Everyone, separate into groups of three and choose a plant, then pull out your Herbology: Year One book and turn to page twenty-seven."

There was a rustle of book bags as students began to rummage for their books. Michael, Albus, and Robbie gathered around an ugly potted Sapora plant while Michael turned to page twenty-seven. There were several pages devoted to the Sapora plant. Michael turned his attention back to the hovering plant as Professor Longbottom continued.

"The Sapora plant as you can see from the illustration on page twenty-seven blooms into a lovely bush once every solastic year. The solastic year is marked by a solar eclipse that involves the alignment of Mercury, Venus, the Moon, and the Earth. Only then can the Sapora petals be harvested. Solastic years only come around once every twenty years and this coming year is a solastic year." There was a buzz of whispered excitement. "Our yearlong project will be to cultivate and finally harvest the Sapora. Our private stores here at Hogwarts is low of Sapora petals so it is important that you take this project seriously."

A Ravenclaw raised her hand at Michael's table.

"Yes, Miss Chase?" said Professor Longbottom.

"Sir, when is the solastic solar eclipse?"

"The phases of the eclipse will be noticeable upon the sapora plant as it begins to darken in color, bud then finally open its petals. The date of the solastic eclipse is May sixteenth of the coming year." replied Professor Longbottom.

"Sir, won't the winter months kill it?" asked a Ravenclaw boy.

"Unlike most shrubs, temperature has no effect upon the sapora." replied Professor Longbottom. "It responds only to the magnetic shift of the Earth yet it has no known metallic substance."

After Herbology, Michael's class headed back to the castle for potions.

"Can you believe all the uses of sapora petals?" said Robbie as they climbed the steps towards the castle.

"You've had your nose in that book ever since we left the greenhouse." said Michael. "Why? What's so interesting about that plant?"

"It's not just that plant." replied Robbie. "I love Herbology and I'm sure I'll love potions. You must like Herbology too. You earned us ten points today already."

"My uncle is fascinated with nature." replied Michael as they turned into the castle and headed downstairs towards the dungeons for Potions. "We go hiking quite often and he is always pointing out things to me."

"It came in handy today." said Albus. "Maybe you can earn some more points for us in Potions."

Once in Potions however, it was clear that no points were to be earned here. Though Professor Brite, head of Slytherin House, was a beautiful witch, the cool attitude she showed to Michael did not make him long to be there in her class. This was no doubt because of what he had done to Syrwin but still, to not even acknowledge or look at him when he raised his hand was a bit much.

Michael was glad to be done when class ended. Professor Brite informed Michael while he was cleaning up that his potion was not acceptable and he would have to redraft today's potion next time before beginning next time's assignment. This made Michael extremely mad but he remembered what Professor Longbottom had said about controlling his temper. Therefore, he simply nodded and left the classroom.

As they headed upstairs for dinner, Michael caught a whiff of something that made his eyes water. He stopped to look around for the source but Robbie collided with him.

"Why the bloody hell did you stop!" exclaimed Robbie while massaging his forehead.

"Forget why he stopped." interjected Albus. "What's that smell?"

"It smells like open drains." said Janet Roe, a fellow Hufflepuff first year, holding her nose as she pushed past the three in a hurry to get away from the smell.

"I agree." said Robbie. "Let's get up to dinner before we lose our appetites."

Michael and Albus agreed and headed towards the Great Hall holding their noses. When they entered the Great Hall, the foul stench was replaced by the aroma of fresh baked bread and cakes. As they sat down at the Hufflepuff table, Mary came over to join them.

"No funny business today?" asked Mary.

"Not a bit, so far." replied Robbie while eating some sausage and mash.

"Good. We Hufflepuffs have a boring reputation to maintain." said Mary with a mischievous smile.

"Was waiting to see if Michael would curse Professor Brite but he didn't." said Albus looking disappointed.

When Mary looked perplexed, Michael explained what happened in Potions.

"Not surprising." said Mary. "She is head of Slytherin house."

"What's next on our schedule today?" asked Albus.

"Double Defense Against the Dark Arts." replied Robbie while pouring himself a glass of pumpkin juice.

Michael was not looking forward to this. His first Defense class with his cousin, Professor Wallace. He hoped that cousin Eric would treat him just like the other students. Surely, he will, thought Michael. He's a Professor now and besides, he barely knows his cousin. Regardless, Michael suddenly felt his appetite vanish. After dinner Michael, Robbie, and Albus headed up to the third floor for Defense class. The foul smell from earlier had subsided. They entered the classroom and Michael took a seat towards the middle of the classroom. Albus and Robbie sat next to him.

Professor Wallace was writing something on the black board with his wand, Identifying the Dark Arts. He turned around to face the class which was comprised of Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. He studied them a minute before he spoke.

"The Dark Arts" began Professor Wallace "is more than just curses and spells. Its heart is logic, it's soul is deception, and its strength is fear. The true Dark Arts are never illogical but instead calculating. You cannot trust what you see, smell, touch, or taste. Thus, in this lies its strength, fear." Professor Wallace circled the room as he spoke. "Our task is to weaken it. To take away what makes it strong. The killing curse for example, made famous by Lord Voldemort, is the crudest of the Dark Arts. While it makes others fearful, it is a finality for the one it is used upon. It does not entrap or cause pain and suffering."

A hand shot into the air. "Yes, Miss Morgan?"

"Sir, isn't killing someone the worst you can do?"

"Miss Morgan, simply killing someone is a horrible feat in itself but it is not, by far, the worst thing you can do to someone. There are far worse fates than death. Many have lost their minds or been placed in irreversible trances. Some curses can cause a person to have the constant feeling of drowning or suffocation even though they are perfectly well."

The class shifted in their chairs uneasily at the thought of this. Professor Wallace goes on. "The thing is that these curses do little good if there is no audience. Fear is the goal. Fear that they might do the same to you. This type of fear is essential to the Dark Arts."

Professor Wallace made his way around to the front of the class again and now stood beside his desk. "You must first learn to identify danger before you can face it." He turned to his desk and took hold of two books. They were identical red leather bound books with black bindings. Professor Wallace held them up for the class to see. "Dark magic leaves a trace. A trace that does not go away and the properly trained witch or wizard can recognize. I'm going to pass these books around. Do not open them. Just hold the books and see if you can tell a difference."

Some students looked scared as the books were quickly passed around the room. When Michael handled the books, he felt as though one of the books seemed to pulse in his hand. Once everyone has held the books, Professor Wallace placed the books back on his desk.

"Can anyone tell me what was different about those books?" asked Professor Wallace.

Only Michael and a few others raised their hands. Albus and Robbie did not raise their hands but just looked at Michael.

"Mr. Wallace, what did you think was different?" asked Professor Wallace.

"Sir, in looks, feel, and weight they were the same. One of the books however, felt as though it tingled in my hand as it passed by." replied Michael.

"Can you still tell which one it was?" asked Professor Wallace.

Michael stared at the books on the desk then pointed at the one on the left. For some reason, it stood out to him. The other students that had raised their hands nodded in agreement.

"You are... correct, Mr. Wallace. The book on the left is different. It contains an itching curse for any who tries to read it. A simple and harmless spell but very effective. Good if you need to know who's been nicking your stuff." Several of the students laughed at this.

"Does anyone that agreed with Mr. Wallace know why the book stood out to you at not others?" asked Professor Wallace. Nobody answered. "Do you know why this book stood out to you, Mr. Wallace?" asked Professor Wallace but Michael shook his head no.

"It is believed that some witches and wizards can sense enchanted objects and magical creatures." Professor Wallace's eyes did not waiver from Michael's while he spoke. "Those that can sense such things often find themselves making careers out of handling or detecting such things." Professor Wallace looked away from Michael and seemed to study the rest of the class before continuing. "Those that cannot simply sense enchanted objects can learn how to identify them through other techniques. In this class, we will learn how to identify the traces of dark magic. Once you can identify and distinguish the difference between a friendly charm and something more sinister, we will learn how to dispose of dark objects." Excited whispers broke out.

Professor Wallace continued on for the rest of the class outlining the properties of enchanted objects and how to identify them. He also went over the differences between magical objects and enchanted ones. For homework, the class was to write down any magical or enchanted objects they can identify in the castle based upon his outlines. Overall, Michael found his cousin's class quite interesting.

"Maybe Hagrid can give you a list of enchanted objects while you're in detention." Robbie told Michael as they made their way to supper that evening.

"Hagrid would never help you with your homework." interjected Albus. "Besides, I'm sure he has some chore prepared for your detention."

"Thanks, Albus." replied Michael while he made his way through the doorway to the Great Hall.

A parade of headless ghosts on horseback known as the headless hunt passed through the wall at the end of the Great Hall and thundered down the middle of the Hall and out into the Entrance Hall. Michael took a seat at the Hufflepuff table as he watched the hunt trail away. The food as always was delicious. Michael piled a good helping of everything onto his plate.

"Always good for a show." said a plump but good natured looking ghost floating down towards the table in front of Michael.

"Hello Friar" said Mary. "How are you today?"

"Same as I was yesterday." replied the Friar chuckling. "Being a ghost, I don't pretend to have bad days. You can find the good in any day if you know where to look for it."

"Easy for you to say." said Robbie.

The Friar raised a transparent eyebrow in Robbie's direction and tilted his head to the side.

"Don't insult the Friar." said a slightly older looking boy with red hair that had walked up behind Albus.

"He's the only ghost that respects your privacy." said, to Michael's surprise, another red-haired boy that looked exactly like the first.

Both boys were identical in height, wearing scarlet robes and covered in freckles.

"Michael, Robbie, these are my cousins, Terry and Fred Weasley." said Albus. "As you can tell, they're twins."

"Hello boys." said the twins in unison.

"Your dad runs Weasley Wizard Wheezes!" said Robbie.

"You are correct," replied Terry Weasley.

"How did you know?" asked Fred Weasley.

"I remember seeing you two in there behind the counter." replied Robbie. "I assumed it's your dad due to the red hair."

"Weasleys have been in Gryffindors for centuries." said Mary. "These two are the third-year trouble makers."

"Ah Mary, you always under estimate us." said Fred.

"We're the whole school's mischief makers! Not just a year's." said Terry.

"They take pride in mischief." said Albus.

"Although it seems you three may just challenge us for the title." said Fred pointing at Albus, Robbie, and Michael.

"Why us?" asked Albus.

"Cause your part Weasley and Mr. Wallace here now has the rep of most dangerous Hufflepuff." said Terry.

"And your guilty by association." said Fred pointing at Robbie.

"But that's not why we stopped by." said Terry.

"We wanted to know cause if you were planning on attending tomorrow night's ceremony." said Fred.

"What are you talking about? What ceremony?" asked Albus completely perplexed.

"So uninformed." replied Terry.

"Shameful." replied Fred.

"Didn't James tell you?" asked Terry.

"What are you two rambling on about? There's no ceremony tomorrow night of any official Hogwarts kind at least." said Mary.

"Hate to break it to ya Mary but your wrong." replied Fred.

"Tomorrow night our cousin who was absent from the sorting." said Terry.

"Due to illness." said Fred.

"Will be sorted in McGonagall's office." said Terry.

"Family and faculty only are invited." said Fred.

"Lucy's here! I thought she was being privately tutored this year." said Albus in shock.

"No, Lucy is well now and will be attending this year, as she should." said the most beautiful girl Michael had ever seen. So, in fact, that Michael felt his eyes water.

"Ah Victoire. Glad that you could join the party." said Albus in a mock friendly tone.

Victoire Weasley huffed at this. "I was just looking for Teddy. Have you seen him?"

"He's probably in the dungeons." replied Fred.

"I will go check on him and see that he got plenty to eat." replied Victoire as she headed past the twins and out of the Great Hall.

"There goes his practice time." said Fred chuckling.

"Who's Teddy?" Michael asked Albus.

"Teddy Lupin is my dad's godson. He's an apprentice potions master here at Hogwarts. He works in Hogsmeade during the day and studies here at night." replied Albus.

"He used to be the number one trickster here when he was in Gryffindor." said Terry.

"So Albus, will you be attending tomorrow night's ceremony?" asked Fred.

"Yeah, of course!" replied Albus.

"Have a good time in detention tomorrow night Michael." said Fred.

"We would be joining you but Professor Finnigan postponed ours till next week due to the unusual circumstances." said Terry.

"You've already got detention too?" asked Albus, clearly amused.

"We're still catching up from last year." replied Terry with pride.

The twins laughed as they walked away, off to who knows what.

"Do they always talk in sing-song like that?" asked Robbie.

"Yep. Been doing it as long as I can remember." replied Albus.

"Who's this Lucy?" asked Michael.

"Lucy Weasley? She's my cousin." replied Albus. "My uncle Percy and aunt Charity's youngest. They already have a daughter here, Amy, a sixth year in Ravenclaw."

"You got cousins everywhere." said Robbie as he shook his head.

"All but Slytherin." replied Albus. "Hopefully, it will stay that way too!"

* * *

 **A/N: And there's the second chapter. Please review and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!**


	3. Making Friends

**Between Legend and Lies:  
The Journey**

 **Chapter Three: Making Friends**

Friday was a complete whirlwind. Michael found that his time table was thoroughly confusing and he was late for almost every class. With moving staircases, a hallway that just went in a circle, trick steps, and a very mischievous poltergeist, it was clear that traversing Hogwarts was not going to be easy.

The weekend was spent with his new friend, Robbie, roaming the castle learning the hallways and corridors, checking out the trophy room, then exploring the grounds. Sampson followed for a while but found the mice of Hogwarts much more interesting. Michael tried to get Albus to join them but he wasn't interested.

"Probably been given the GRAND tour already." said Robbie as he and Michael walked down to the lake.

"Try backing off him a little, won't you." replied Michael. "He's going through a rough transition."

"What's so rough about being in Hufflepuff?" asked Robbie.

"Having to wear a blanket over your head in public for the shame." said a sneering Slytherin boy leaning against a nearby shade tree. "At least the Potter boy has some pride. I guess you two already had that beaten out before you got here." Three other boys with him wearing Slytherin robes laughed.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" asked Robbie, stopping dead in his tracks and staring at the boys.

"Sorry. How rude of me. My name is Justin Goyle." replied the boy. "And you are?"

"I'm Robbie Hughes and he's Michael Wallace." said Robbie jerking a thumb at Michael.

"Goyle... Goyle... that name sounds familiar." said Michael. "Oh wait, never-mind... I was thinking of a boil." Robbie laughed hard but Goyle clinched his fists.

"Amusing," replied Goyle. "Embrace your new celebrity while you have him. My bet is he'll drop out of school before the end of term or at least one can hope." The sneering smile returned as he said it.

"Now Justin," said a tall blond boy striding up to them wearing Slytherin robes "let's not get off to a bad start. We must observe manners."

Michael eyed the newcomer with suspicion. He also noticed the Malfoy boy sitting under a nearby tree apparently reading a book but had stopped to watch with mild interest.

"My name is Fredrick Syrwin, second year. You must be Michael Wallace. My father works with your uncle at the Ministry."

Syrwin extended his hand and Michael shook hands with him briefly. Michael did not like the confidence, even arrogance that Syrwin displayed. Goyle's look of displeasure only lasted a second for Syrwin's smirk turned to one of mock disgust.

"I forgot," said Syrwin "you live amongst Muggles. I presume you wash but I'll have to cleanse my hands just to be safe."

Goyle broke out into ruckus laughter. Michael felt his face burn with anger.

"And under what rock might you live as to stay away from Muggles?" asked Michael, arms folded.

"Though a rock would most likely be a better option than yours' Wallace, my family choose to live only amongst the magical community. It grants us certain liberties that you, I'm afraid, are not." said Syrwin with an evil grin.

"Ah, you must live in Spoldice." said Robbie.

"And you are?" asked Syrwin.

"Robbie Hughes."

"Well Hughes, you are correct. Though I doubt you've ever visited." replied Syrwin in a lofty tone.

"Where's this Spoldice?" asked Michael, looking at Robbie.

"It's an all magical community located somewhere along the southeastern shoreline," replied Robbie. "It's says to be a pure-blood only community established right before the start of the Wizarding wars."

"You know your history," said Syrwin. "Very good, especially for no doubt a," Syrwin cleared his throat "Muggleborn such as yourself."

"My dad works for the Ministry and my mum's a witch who works for Flourish & Blotts," said Robbie firmly.

"True but unless I'm mistaken, the whole lot of your grandparents are Muggles. Correct?" said Syrwin.

"Your family still keeping a registry around Syrwin?" asked Michael as he clinched his wand in his pocket. "Just curious, how does an entire community become completely magical in this day and age? Isn't it illegal for a wizard to persuade or force a muggle to leave a dwelling by magic?"

"Why so interested in my family's township Wallace?" asked Syrwin, his eyes narrowing.

"Oh, nothing really. Just grasping the bigger picture, that's all." replied Michael not taking his eyes off Syrwin who was holding something inside his robes.

"Let's just go." said Robbie to Michael and motioned to leave.

"It's a good thing Wallace that your uncle is raising you." said Syrwin. "At least your parents aren't here to be embarrassed by your actions."

The blood thundered through Michael's brain. Rage and anger more powerful than anything he had ever felt before boiled up inside him. He wanted to inflict as much harm as possible! He drew his wand and pointed it at Syrwin before the latter can react. The words flew from his lips before he knew what he is doing. " _Stupify!_ " The spell exploded from the end of his wand like a cannon blast. The red light hit Syrwin in the stomach and completely lifted him off the ground before slamming him into the nearby tree. The Malfoy boy leaped out of the way just in time to avoid the collision. Goyle and the other Slytherins made a run for it.

"What the ruddy hell is going on!" boomed a voice from behind Michael who turned in horror to see Professor Hagrid striding towards him.

The massive man towered Michael who stood petrified with fear. Robbie looked white as a sheet. Syrwin was attempting to struggle to his feet but fell back down.

"Stow that wand away boy!" boomed Professor Hagrid looking down at him.

For a split-second Michael thought he saw the same look of mingled surprise and terror that he had saw on Ollivander's face in the expression of Professor Hagrid but in a blink, it was gone. Behind Professor Hagrid came running another boy who grabbed at his own side gasping for breath as he caught up. It's Potter! Michael did not know whether to feel better or worse till Albus Potter spoke.

"Hagrid" said Potter still gasping for breath. "They're Hufflepuffs, in my year."

"Syrwin!" boomed Professor Hagrid. "Get up to the castle. Go see Madame Pomphrey if you feel the need to be sick still in an hour. Go!"

Syrwin who had just gotten sick by the tree looked up and gave them a nasty look before heading to the castle. The Malfoy boy stared at Michael with real interest now as though he was studying him before turning and heading back to the castle, no doubt lest he got into trouble too.

"You two" said Professor Hagrid pointing at Michael and Robbie "follow me."

They began walking to what looked like an over-sized cabin. Michael did not dare look at Robbie. Albus Potter walked along side Professor Hagrid. When they reach the cabin door he motioned them inside and told them to sit down. The chairs were four times the size of regular chairs. Everything was four times the size of regular things now that Michael looked around proper.

"That was amazing and stupid all at the same time." said Professor Hagrid while pouring Michael a large cup of pumpkin juice roughly the size of a pitcher.

"Professor?" began Michael but he was cut off.

"You call me Professor during lessons. Right now, it's just Hagrid."

"Yes sir." replied Michael and Robbie nodded.

"Now, what be your names?" asked Hagrid.

"This here is Michael Wallace and Robbie Hughes." said Albus Potter pointing to the boys in turn.

Finally, Robbie found his voice. "Michael! How did you do that?"

Michael looked from Robbie to see that Hagrid and Albus Potter were both starring at him waiting.

"I don't know." began Michael. "My uncle taught me the spell using a practice wand but that's the first time I've ever really used it." Michael amazed himself in the process. His first ever spell and it worked. Worked too well. The fear of what he had done was beginning to overwhelm him.

"Uh, Hagrid, will I be expelled?" asked Michael.

"Of course not. Don't be foolish." chuckled Hagrid. "You think you're the first to jinx young Syrwin? All the same, you shouldn't go jinxing other students."

"He deserved it." said Robbie. "Way out of line about your parents, mate."

"What did he say?" asked Albus Potter.

Michael sighed, "You see, my parents are dead. He... it doesn't matter." Michael looked down at the floor.

"Well, no worries about him now." said Hagrid. "I would imagine that he'll watch his tongue while around you from now on. Like I said earlier, that was a fine bit of magic."

"Hagrid, sir," began Robbie "is this your house?"

"This is the living quarters for the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." replied Hagrid. "I have held that position since I was seventeen. Professor Dippit, who was the Headmaster then, enlarged the place to better suit me."

"You hold two positions here at Hogwarts?" asked Michael who was glad to see the conversation change.

Hagrid puffed out his chest with pride and nodded. "That's right Michael. I'm the only teacher here to do so."

They sat and talked for a while about Hogwarts, Quidditch, and the Forbidden Forrest which Hagrid knew much about. When Hagrid offered them a large piece of cake which almost cracked one of Michael's molars, they excused themselves and headed back to the castle for supper. Albus Potter walked back with them cutting jokes and laughing at Robbie's. Michael felt that this might just be the start of a good friendship.

When they reached the west entrance to the castle which was a long-suspended bridge overlooking a gully, there stood Professor Longbottom, arms folded, and looking dead at them. His expression made the boys cringe.

"Professor Brite said that you attacked one of the Slytherins Mr. Wallace. Is this true?" asked Professor Longbottom.

"Yes sir, I –" began Michael but Albus cut him off.

"Neville, I mean Professor Longbottom, Michael was provoked. That Slytherin bloke made rude remarks about Michael's dead parents."

Professor Longbottom looked directly at Michael, ignoring Robbie and Albus. "Is that what happened? Did he provoke you?"

"Yes sir." replied Michael now looking at Professor Longbottom's shoes.

"Well, unfortunately that's no excuse. Even though it was provoked I will still have to give you detention." said Professor Longbottom.

"What!" blurted Robbie.

"Mr. Hughes, I'd advise you to hold your tongue lest you join Mr. Wallace." replied Professor Longbottom sternly.

"But Professor..." started Albus but Professor Longbottom held up his hand and he fell silent.

"Detention is the least punishment I can give out under these circumstances, Mr. Wallace." Professor Longbottom placed a hand on Michael's shoulder. "Best find a way to control your anger. I dear say that Mr. Syrwin won't be the last to upset you. I'll arrange for you to serve your detention Tuesday night with Professor Hagrid."

Professor Longbottom turned and headed into the castle across the crooked bridge. Michael stood there, frozen in place. Michael was so shocked by this he did not know what to do. Not even a week and he already had detention!

"Snap out of it Michael." said Robbie.

"At least he gave you detention with Hagrid." said Albus.

"Detention!" gasped Michael. "My uncle is going to flip his nut!"

"Maybe, but wait till this gets out." There was an unmistakable air of excitement in Robbie's voice.

"When what gets out?" asked Michael, dragging himself away from the thoughts of what awful things Hagrid might have him doing for detention Tuesday night.

"When it gets out that you dueled a Slytherin and won!" replied Robbie excitedly. "Slytherins are notoriously really good at dueling, especially a second year and you stunned him after only your third day at school!"

Michael did not know if this made him feel better or worse. He was still amazed by what he had done but also terrified.

Albus walked over and slapped Michael on the shoulder, "Stop worrying mate. Let's just go to the Great Hall for supper. How many people could possibly know."

As they entered the Great Hall, Michael wondered how many people did Syrwin tell for every eye at the Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor table seemed to find him. They walked toward their house table to sit but halted when the entire Hufflepuff table broke into applause. Even a few whistles. The Gryffindor table joined them in applause till the Headmistress called for quiet. The Slytherins sat sour faced and the Ravenclaws looked moody.

"Way to go!" said Greg Foster as Michael took a seat at the table.

"Unbelievable!" exclaimed another boy that Michael did not know yet.

"About time too." said Selena Goldstein. "Slytherins have been getting the best of Hufflepuffs for too long. Too bad it takes a first year to do it."

"What I would like to know is why." said Mary Clearwater in a not so friendly tone.

"Goyle and Syrwin were cracking jokes about Michael's parents." replied Albus angrily.

Mary was taken back by Albus' remark.

"When did you two become mates and why would Syrwin make jokes about Michael's parents?" asked Mary while she stared at Albus.

"I'm a Hufflepuff." replied Albus. "Of course, we're mates."

"My parents are dead Mary." said Michael. "That's why he was –"

"Being a total prat!" Interjected Greg as he glared over at the Slytherin table.

As they all ate, Mary and Robbie discussed what things should be done to Syrwin and why stunning him wasn't enough. When supper was over, Michael headed back to the common room with the rest of Hufflepuff. As he went he made eye contact with a Ravenclaw. He smiled but she frowned and looked away.

"So why are the Ravenclaws upset?" Michael asked Selena Goldstein as they entered the common room.

"Ravenclaws and Slytherins have been chummy for years." replied Selena.

"Oh yes, they believe they're the best houses in Hogwarts." said Mary.

Michael sat down on the couch nearest the fireplace. Sampson walked across the back of the couch and dropped lightly into Michael's lap. Albus flopped into a chair and propped his feet up on a nearby table. Robbie laughed as Selena levitated Albus over to another chair.

"And Gryffindor?" asked Michael while he rubbed Sampson's head.

"Gryffindor and Hufflepuff get along well, as is expected. You saw how Gryffindor applauded your detention worthy actions against Syrwin." said Mary with a smile now sitting next to Michael.

"It doesn't hurt that Albus' dad erected a statue to Cedric Diggery, the Hufflepuff Tri-Wizard Champion, in the Hogwarts courtyard two years ago." said Selena.

"Or that Professor Longbottom is our head of house." said Robbie. "He was a Gryffindor and a great hero of the last Wizarding war."

Selena smiled and nodded in agreement at Robbie.

"As a prefect Michael, it is my duty however to warn you against further actions such as stunning Syrwin." said Selena with a serious tone.

"Professor Longbottom has already warned him and" stressed Albus "given him detention. I think he got the point."

Selena raised an eyebrow in Albus' direction. Albus gave her a look of mock innocence.

Albus was bored with the topic of conversation and challenged anyone in the room to a game of wizard chess. To Michael's surprise, Selena answered the challenge.

Albus laughed, "There's no brooms in wizard chess Selena. Are you sure you still want to play?"

"Chess helps me think and prepares me for Quidditch." replied Selena coolly while holding a black pawn up to examine it.

As Selena and Albus played, Michael and Robbie talked and laughed while watching the game. Selena was good at wizard chess. Albus however was definitely the better player. Michael rolled his eyes as they turned in for the night while Albus recounted his win over Selena for the fourth time.

"Give it a rest." said Robbie who clearly had heard enough.

"That's fine." replied Albus, pulling on his pajamas. "Play you Tuesday night then? We'll have time while we wait for Michael to get back from detention."

"Thanks mate!" said Michael, as he fluffed his pillow with his fist. "You're so keen on it, why don't you take detention for me!"

"Wish I could" replied Albus with mock sadness "but that's not how it works."

Michael laid down and drifted off to sleep as a thunderstorm rolled in, pounding the dorm room windows with rain.

The next morning Michael, Albus, and Robbie made their way down to Herbology across the sodden grounds. Robbie took pleasure in splashing the puddles along the way. The Ravenclaws were already in Greenhouse One when the Hufflepuffs arrived. Professor Longbottom was placing pots on each table that looked as though the roots of a plant were growing up out of the dirt the wrong way. He waved his wand and the last pot settled neatly into place. Michael recognized the plant from hiking with his uncle who would point out odd or rare ruffage along the way.

"The pots that sit before you" began Professor Longbottom "are this term's project. Can anyone tell me what the name of this plant is?"

Michael raised his hand. "Mr. Wallace?"

"It's a Saporas plant, sir"

"Correct Mr. Wallace. Five points to Hufflepuff." Albus smiled and nudged Michael as Professor Longbottom continued. "Can anyone tell me what this plant's magical qualities are if any?"

Michael raised his hand again but this time so did a couple of other students from both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.

"Miss Chase?"

"The plant is used to make Skelligrow but it has no true magical qualities." replied Megan Chase of Ravenclaw.

"No true magical qualities." repeated Professor Longbottom. "I'm sorry Miss Chase that is incorrect. Anyone else?"

Michael raised his hand again and Chase glared at him.

"Yes Mr. Wallace?" said Professor Longbottom.

"Sir, the plant is used to make Skelligrow but it's petals contain strong magical qualities used in a variety of potions." replied Michael.

"Correct again Mr. Wallace. Another five points to Hufflepuff. Now, as you can see" Professor Longbottom levitated one of the potted plants into the air which rotated slightly "the Sapora plant does not currently contain any buds or petals. Everyone, separate into groups of three and choose a plant, then pull out your Herbology: Year One book and turn to page twenty-seven."

There was a rustle of book bags as students began to rummage for their books. Michael, Albus, and Robbie gathered around an ugly potted Sapora plant while Michael turned to page twenty-seven. There were several pages devoted to the Sapora plant. Michael turned his attention back to the hovering plant as Professor Longbottom continued.

"The Sapora plant as you can see from the illustration on page twenty-seven blooms into a lovely bush once every solastic year. The solastic year is marked by a solar eclipse that involves the alignment of Mercury, Venus, the Moon, and the Earth. Only then can the Sapora petals be harvested. Solastic years only come around once every twenty years and this coming year is a solastic year." There was a buzz of whispered excitement. "Our yearlong project will be to cultivate and finally harvest the Sapora. Our private stores here at Hogwarts is low of Sapora petals so it is important that you take this project seriously."

A Ravenclaw raised her hand at Michael's table.

"Yes, Miss Chase?" said Professor Longbottom.

"Sir, when is the solastic solar eclipse?"

"The phases of the eclipse will be noticeable upon the sapora plant as it begins to darken in color, bud then finally open its petals. The date of the solastic eclipse is May sixteenth of the coming year." replied Professor Longbottom.

"Sir, won't the winter months kill it?" asked a Ravenclaw boy.

"Unlike most shrubs, temperature has no effect upon the sapora." replied Professor Longbottom. "It responds only to the magnetic shift of the Earth yet it has no known metallic substance."

After Herbology, Michael's class headed back to the castle for potions.

"Can you believe all the uses of sapora petals?" said Robbie as they climbed the steps towards the castle.

"You've had your nose in that book ever since we left the greenhouse." said Michael. "Why? What's so interesting about that plant?"

"It's not just that plant." replied Robbie. "I love Herbology and I'm sure I'll love potions. You must like Herbology too. You earned us ten points today already."

"My uncle is fascinated with nature." replied Michael as they turned into the castle and headed downstairs towards the dungeons for Potions. "We go hiking quite often and he is always pointing out things to me."

"It came in handy today." said Albus. "Maybe you can earn some more points for us in Potions."

Once in Potions however, it was clear that no points were to be earned here. Though Professor Brite, head of Slytherin House, was a beautiful witch, the cool attitude she showed to Michael did not make him long to be there in her class. This was no doubt because of what he had done to Syrwin but still, to not even acknowledge or look at him when he raised his hand was a bit much.

Michael was glad to be done when class ended. Professor Brite informed Michael while he was cleaning up that his potion was not acceptable and he would have to redraft today's potion next time before beginning next time's assignment. This made Michael extremely mad but he remembered what Professor Longbottom had said about controlling his temper. Therefore, he simply nodded and left the classroom.

As they headed upstairs for dinner, Michael caught a whiff of something that made his eyes water. He stopped to look around for the source but Robbie collided with him.

"Why the bloody hell did you stop!" exclaimed Robbie while massaging his forehead.

"Forget why he stopped." interjected Albus. "What's that smell?"

"It smells like open drains." said Janet Roe, a fellow Hufflepuff first year, holding her nose as she pushed past the three in a hurry to get away from the smell.

"I agree." said Robbie. "Let's get up to dinner before we lose our appetites."

Michael and Albus agreed and headed towards the Great Hall holding their noses. When they entered the Great Hall, the foul stench was replaced by the aroma of fresh baked bread and cakes. As they sat down at the Hufflepuff table, Mary came over to join them.

"No funny business today?" asked Mary.

"Not a bit, so far." replied Robbie while eating some sausage and mash.

"Good. We Hufflepuffs have a boring reputation to maintain." said Mary with a mischievous smile.

"Was waiting to see if Michael would curse Professor Brite but he didn't." said Albus looking disappointed.

When Mary looked perplexed, Michael explained what happened in Potions.

"Not surprising." said Mary. "She is head of Slytherin house."

"What's next on our schedule today?" asked Albus.

"Double Defense Against the Dark Arts." replied Robbie while pouring himself a glass of pumpkin juice.

Michael was not looking forward to this. His first Defense class with his cousin, Professor Wallace. He hoped that cousin Eric would treat him just like the other students. Surely, he will, thought Michael. He's a Professor now and besides, he barely knows his cousin. Regardless, Michael suddenly felt his appetite vanish. After dinner Michael, Robbie, and Albus headed up to the third floor for Defense class. The foul smell from earlier had subsided. They entered the classroom and Michael took a seat towards the middle of the classroom. Albus and Robbie sat next to him.

Professor Wallace was writing something on the black board with his wand, Identifying the Dark Arts. He turned around to face the class which was comprised of Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. He studied them a minute before he spoke.

"The Dark Arts" began Professor Wallace "is more than just curses and spells. Its heart is logic, it's soul is deception, and its strength is fear. The true Dark Arts are never illogical but instead calculating. You cannot trust what you see, smell, touch, or taste. Thus, in this lies its strength, fear." Professor Wallace circled the room as he spoke. "Our task is to weaken it. To take away what makes it strong. The killing curse for example, made famous by Lord Voldemort, is the crudest of the Dark Arts. While it makes others fearful, it is a finality for the one it is used upon. It does not entrap or cause pain and suffering."

A hand shot into the air. "Yes, Miss Morgan?"

"Sir, isn't killing someone the worst you can do?"

"Miss Morgan, simply killing someone is a horrible feat in itself but it is not, by far, the worst thing you can do to someone. There are far worse fates than death. Many have lost their minds or been placed in irreversible trances. Some curses can cause a person to have the constant feeling of drowning or suffocation even though they are perfectly well."

The class shifted in their chairs uneasily at the thought of this. Professor Wallace goes on. "The thing is that these curses do little good if there is no audience. Fear is the goal. Fear that they might do the same to you. This type of fear is essential to the Dark Arts."

Professor Wallace made his way around to the front of the class again and now stood beside his desk. "You must first learn to identify danger before you can face it." He turned to his desk and took hold of two books. They were identical red leather bound books with black bindings. Professor Wallace held them up for the class to see. "Dark magic leaves a trace. A trace that does not go away and the properly trained witch or wizard can recognize. I'm going to pass these books around. Do not open them. Just hold the books and see if you can tell a difference."

Some students looked scared as the books were quickly passed around the room. When Michael handled the books, he felt as though one of the books seemed to pulse in his hand. Once everyone has held the books, Professor Wallace placed the books back on his desk.

"Can anyone tell me what was different about those books?" asked Professor Wallace.

Only Michael and a few others raised their hands. Albus and Robbie did not raise their hands but just looked at Michael.

"Mr. Wallace, what did you think was different?" asked Professor Wallace.

"Sir, in looks, feel, and weight they were the same. One of the books however, felt as though it tingled in my hand as it passed by." replied Michael.

"Can you still tell which one it was?" asked Professor Wallace.

Michael stared at the books on the desk then pointed at the one on the left. For some reason, it stood out to him. The other students that had raised their hands nodded in agreement.

"You are... correct, Mr. Wallace. The book on the left is different. It contains an itching curse for any who tries to read it. A simple and harmless spell but very effective. Good if you need to know who's been nicking your stuff." Several of the students laughed at this.

"Does anyone that agreed with Mr. Wallace know why the book stood out to you at not others?" asked Professor Wallace. Nobody answered. "Do you know why this book stood out to you, Mr. Wallace?" asked Professor Wallace but Michael shook his head no.

"It is believed that some witches and wizards can sense enchanted objects and magical creatures." Professor Wallace's eyes did not waiver from Michael's while he spoke. "Those that can sense such things often find themselves making careers out of handling or detecting such things." Professor Wallace looked away from Michael and seemed to study the rest of the class before continuing. "Those that cannot simply sense enchanted objects can learn how to identify them through other techniques. In this class, we will learn how to identify the traces of dark magic. Once you can identify and distinguish the difference between a friendly charm and something more sinister, we will learn how to dispose of dark objects." Excited whispers broke out.

Professor Wallace continued on for the rest of the class outlining the properties of enchanted objects and how to identify them. He also went over the differences between magical objects and enchanted ones. For homework, the class was to write down any magical or enchanted objects they can identify in the castle based upon his outlines. Overall, Michael found his cousin's class quite interesting.

"Maybe Hagrid can give you a list of enchanted objects while you're in detention." Robbie told Michael as they made their way to supper that evening.

"Hagrid would never help you with your homework." interjected Albus. "Besides, I'm sure he has some chore prepared for your detention."

"Thanks, Albus." replied Michael while he made his way through the doorway to the Great Hall.

A parade of headless ghosts on horseback known as the headless hunt passed through the wall at the end of the Great Hall and thundered down the middle of the Hall and out into the Entrance Hall. Michael took a seat at the Hufflepuff table as he watched the hunt trail away. The food as always was delicious. Michael piled a good helping of everything onto his plate.

"Always good for a show." said a plump but good-natured looking ghost floating down towards the table in front of Michael.

"Hello Friar" said Mary. "How are you today?"

"Same as I was yesterday." replied the Friar chuckling. "Being a ghost, I don't pretend to have bad days. You can find the good in any day if you know where to look for it."

"Easy for you to say." said Robbie.

The Friar raised a transparent eyebrow in Robbie's direction and tilted his head to the side.

"Don't insult the Friar." said a slightly older looking boy with red hair that had walked up behind Albus.

"He's the only ghost that respects your privacy." said, to Michael's surprise, another red-haired boy that looked exactly like the first.

Both boys were identical in height, wearing scarlet robes and covered in freckles.

"Michael, Robbie, these are my cousins, Terry and Fred Weasley." said Albus. "As you can tell, they're twins."

"Hello boys." said the twins in unison.

"Your dad runs Weasley Wizard Wheezes!" said Robbie.

"You are correct," replied Terry Weasley.

"How did you know?" asked Fred Weasley.

"I remember seeing you two in there behind the counter." replied Robbie. "I assumed it's your dad due to the red hair."

"Weasleys have been in Gryffindors for centuries." said Mary. "These two are the third-year trouble makers."

"Ah Mary, you always under estimate us." said Fred.

"We're the whole school's mischief makers! Not just a year's." said Terry.

"They take pride in mischief." said Albus.

"Although it seems you three may just challenge us for the title." said Fred pointing at Albus, Robbie, and Michael.

"Why us?" asked Albus.

"Cause your part Weasley and Mr. Wallace here now has the rep of most dangerous Hufflepuff." said Terry.

"And your guilty by association." said Fred pointing at Robbie.

"But that's not why we stopped by." said Terry.

"We wanted to know cause if you were planning on attending tomorrow night's ceremony." said Fred.

"What are you talking about? What ceremony?" asked Albus completely perplexed.

"So uninformed." replied Terry.

"Shameful." replied Fred.

"Didn't James tell you?" asked Terry.

"What are you two rambling on about? There's no ceremony tomorrow night of any official Hogwarts kind at least." said Mary.

"Hate to break it to ya Mary but your wrong." replied Fred.

"Tomorrow night our cousin who was absent from the sorting." said Terry.

"Due to illness." said Fred.

"Will be sorted in McGonagall's office." said Terry.

"Family and faculty only are invited." said Fred.

"Lucy's here! I thought she was being privately tutored this year." said Albus in shock.

"No, Lucy is well now and will be attending this year, as she should." said the most beautiful girl Michael had ever seen. So, in fact, that Michael felt his eyes water.

"Ah Victoire. Glad that you could join the party." said Albus in a mock friendly tone.

Victoire Weasley huffed at this. "I was just looking for Teddy. Have you seen him?"

"He's probably in the dungeons." replied Fred.

"I will go check on him and see that he got plenty to eat." replied Victoire as she headed past the twins and out of the Great Hall.

"There goes his practice time." said Fred chuckling.

"Who's Teddy?" Michael asked Albus.

"Teddy Lupin is my dad's godson. He's an apprentice potions master here at Hogwarts. He works in Hogsmeade during the day and studies here at night." replied Albus.

"He used to be the number one trickster here when he was in Gryffindor." said Terry.

"So Albus, will you be attending tomorrow night's ceremony?" asked Fred.

"Yeah, of course!" replied Albus.

"Have a good time in detention tomorrow night Michael." said Fred.

"We would be joining you but Professor Finnigan postponed ours till next week due to the unusual circumstances." said Terry.

"You've already got detention too?" asked Albus, clearly amused.

"We're still catching up from last year." replied Terry with pride.

The twins laughed as they walked away, off to who knows what.

"Do they always talk in sing-song like that?" asked Robbie.

"Yep. Been doing it as long as I can remember." replied Albus.

"Who's this Lucy?" asked Michael.

"Lucy Weasley? She's my cousin." replied Albus. "My uncle Percy and aunt Charity's youngest. They already have a daughter here, Amy, a sixth year in Ravenclaw."

"You got cousins everywhere." said Robbie as he shook his head.

"All but Slytherin." replied Albus. "Hopefully, it will stay that way too!"

* * *

 **A/N: And there's the third chapter. Please review and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!**


	4. Unreal World

**Between Legends and Lies:  
The Journey**

 **Chapter Four: Unreal World**

The next morning Michael opened his eyes dreading the detention that awaited him that night. All thoughts of detention however, were erased from his mind. Instead he nearly leaped from his bed, startled by the sights he beheld. His entire room was different from last night. Gone were the pleasant shrubs and flowers that normally adorned the windows. They had been replaced by dark curtains and stone busts of wizards that Michael had never seen before.

Gone was the yellow and maroon banners of the badger. Someone had replaced them with the black and emerald green banners of the Slytherin house emblazoned with the symbol of the serpent. ' _A very elaborate trick_ ', thought Michael. No doubt in retaliation for him besting Syrwin, but how did they do it?

Now that Michael looked around in earnest he realized that he wasn't in his room at all! He must be, somehow, in Slytherin's dorm! He jumped up and through on his clothes. How would he explain this if he was caught? Detention with Hagrid would be laughable in comparison to that punishment.

"Where are you going so fast?" asked a boy Michael had never seen before.

"I... I... " stuttered Michael, frozen to the spot.

"It's not breakfast time yet. Go back to bed." replied the boy.

"Just need to use the lavatory." replied Michael stunned.

"Ha, told ya you shouldn't have drunk that much pumpkin juice last night." replied the boy.

"Right. Sure. Well, be back." replied Michael.

Michael turned and bolted for the door. The boy laughed at him. When Michael reached the dorm room door he found steps going, not up as would have expected in a dungeon but down. Michael cautiously descended the stairs into a common room. He recognized nothing.

"Where are you going?" asked a boy sitting on a couch near a smoking fireplace.

The boy must have just extinguished the fire. The cinders were still glowing red and the boy was holding the poker.

"Bathroom." stuttered Michael and looked for the exit.

Michael saw what looked like the back of a canvas covering a doorway. He made his way to it and pushed it open.

"The new pass phrase is goosebumps." called the boy after Michael, chuckling.

Michael called back, "thanks" as he exited the common room into the hallway. Michael might as well have been in the dark in a strange room. Nothing looked familiar. Stone heads of serpents and emerald green tapestries hung on the walls. Torches crackled and burst into light as he walked down the hall.

"What are you doing out of bed?" said a gruff voice behind Michael.

Michael spun around to face a wizard he had never seen before. He was quite tall with black hair, beard, and coal black eyes.

"Bathroom." stuttered Michael.

"Really?" replied the man silkily. "Why do I not believe you Mr. Wallace?"

"I uh... don't uh..." started Michael but the wizard interrupted.

"Mr. Wallace, I ask myself, why is he out of bed and roaming the halls at three o'clock in the morning." said the wizard in a bizarre sing song voice. "Then I answer myself, Mr. Wallace is up to something. But what is he up to?"

"Nothing! I just need to go to the bathroom. Honest!" replied Michael.

"Silence!" snapped the wizard. "You will address me as sir or professor when you speak to me. I have my eye on you, Mr. Wallace. If you are wise you will not cross me. Go about your business and return to your common room immediately. Breaking curfew is punishable no matter who you are or what your surname be. Understand?"

"Yes sir." replied Michael scared.

The wizard swept past Michael and down the nearby flight of steps. Michael quickly ran up the hallway and back down it till he found the boy's laboratory and ducked inside. He closed the door behind him and sunk down to the floor up against a wall near a spicket. He placed his hands over his face and began rubbing his eyes.

Nothing made any sense. It's a bad dream, thought Michael. No, a nightmare! He pulled himself back up to his feet and made his way to a sink. He opened the taps and flung water onto his face with his cupped hands but he did not wake up. He needed to find Robbie and Albus. Maybe they would know what was going on. Were they in the room he just left? Michael turned and made to exit the laboratory when someone spoke behind him.

"Rough night Michael?"

Michael turned to see Justin Goyle standing by one of the basins. Michael immediately withdrew his wand and pointed it at Goyle.

"Easy! It's me, Justin!" said Goyle in a panic, raising his hands.

Michael lowered his wand uncertain what to make of this. Goyle was acting friendly. Goyle slowly lowered his hands and let out a long breath.

"Must have been some night! What's with you?" asked Goyle.

"Bad dream." replied Michael not taking his eyes off Goyle.

"Wow! I'd say, but could you stop looking at me like that? You're starting to wig me out." said Goyle.

Michael forced a smile and looked at Goyle's shirt for he couldn't smile while staring at his face. There was a large silver crest on Goyle's robes that Michael had never seen before. Confusion was starting to overpower Michael again. He was scared and Michael did not like to feel scared.

"Why are you up?" asked Michael not looking at Goyle.

"Couldn't sleep. Too much on my mind." replied Goyle.

Michael forced back the urge to retort with something mean. Silence fell between the two for a moment.

"You're acting funny." said Goyle. "What's going on?"

"Excuse me uh... Justin, I would love to talk but I really need to find Robbie and Albus." said Michael.

"Who?" asked Goyle.

"Robbie Hughes and Albus Potter." replied Michael.

Goyle roared with laughter, "That's brilliant Michael! A Potter at Slytherin! Woo, that's too much! Thanks mate, I needed that!"

"At Slytherin?" asked Michael, confusion and horror surfacing again.

"You okay?" asked Goyle. "Slytherin. Slytherin… our school?"

Goyle looked at Michael incredulously. Michael was clutching at the wall for support. Suddenly, Michael lost complete control and lunged at Goyle, pushing him against the basin and shoving his wand up against Goyle's throat.

"Stop playing games Goyle!" cried Michael. "What's going on here!"

Goyle stammered and spluttered in apparent shock.

"Mr. Wallace!" shouted the tall black haired wizard.

Michael froze, not releasing his hold on Goyle. Michael was shaking uncontrollably. There was a loud bang and Michael was thrown across the laboratory into the door of a stall which slammed open under his weight. Michael fell back, hit his head on the toilet, and crumpled on the floor. The tall wizard stepped forward pointing his wand at Michael.

"Stow your wand away Mr. Wallace and get up!" said the wizard.

Michael however, dropped his wand as he blacked out. The next Michael knew he was being awakened by the clicking of what sounded like nails on a blackboard. The back of his head was pounding. He rubbed the back of his head. Michael looked up as images began to swim in front of him. Slowly, the room began to come into focus. He was in a round room with long tapestries and portraits covering the walls. A large desk sat before him and a thin wizard with long silver hair sat behind the desk staring at him.

"Welcome back Mr. Wallace." said the wizard.

"Where am I?" asked Michael.

"In my office." replied the wizard. "Mr. Wallace, do you know who I am?"

"No sir." replied Michael.

"Interesting." replied the wizard.

"Absolute nonsense." growled the tall black-haired wizard.

Michael looked around to see the wizard standing behind him.

"I'm not so sure Professor Bink. I think Mr. Wallace is telling us the truth." said the wizard sitting at the desk.

Michael looked forward again to face the wizard at the desk. He felt as though he may be sick. He was scared and his head felt as though it might fall off.

"Mr. Wallace, my name is Professor Gimp. I am the Headmaster here of Slytherin School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." said the wizard at the desk.

Michael closed his eyes to try and keep his bearings. Once again, his feelings of confusion were overwhelming him. He wanted to shout 'liar' at the wizard but instead held his tongue.

"Curious you do not remember me when I spoke to you just yesterday Mr. Wallace." said Professor Gimp.

"I remember you but I don't." replied Michael shaking his head, his eyes held tightly closed.

The truth was that for some reason he did remember this Professor Gimp. It was as though two sets of memories were fighting inside his head.

"Mr. Goyle said you attacked him after stating that you were looking for two students that have never attended this school." said Professor Bink.

"What students were you looking for Mr. Wallace?" asked Professor Gimp.

"Robbie Hughes and Albus Potter." replied Michael, holding his head and still not looking at anyone.

At these words a wizard slumped over in a portrait opened his eyes and sat up. Professor Gimp glanced at the portrait, as did Michael. The wizard looked ancient with and long silvery beard.

"Headmaster, this is absolute rubbish!" cried Professor Bink. "This is his excuse for having a jolly with young Goyle."

"Excuse me, Headmaster" said the wizard in the painting. "I believe that this boy is over-rot. Perhaps too much History of Magic. I believe that a trip to the hospital wing and plenty of rest might be necessary."

Michael had not even had a History of Magic lesson yet however, Michael was too confused to say anything.

"You always were easy on the students." replied Professor Gimp. "However, I agree with you, this time."

The portrait of the wizard smiled and nodded then turned back to his original sitting position and closed his eyes.

"Professor Bink, please take Mr. Wallace to the hospital wing." said Professor Gimp.

"Very well Headmaster." replied Professor Bink. "Come you."

Michael rose very shakily and glanced at Professor Gimp who was watching him over folded hands. Michael turned and walked behind Professor Bink down a spiral staircase and into a long corridor.

"Very clever boy." said Professor Bink, not looking at Michael as they walked down the corridor. "You may think that this charade has worked however, I am no fool. I will be contacting your father immediately."

Michael stopped dead. Professor Bink carried on several more paces before stopping to notice that Michael was no longer with him. He looked at Michael with an evil smile then strode back to him.

"Did you think I would not inform your father?" asked Professor Bink in a quiet voice.

"My father?" replied Michael in disbelief, still visibly shaking.

Professor Bink grinned even broader. "Oh yes. He must know how his son carries on while at school and only a few days in at that."

Michael began shaking so bad that he fell to the ground. Michael's father was dead. Dead for nearly all his life. Surely this Professor Bink had him confused with someone else. The smile on Professor Bink's face vanished. He reached down and lifted Michael back to his feet.

"Perhaps I was wrong." said Professor Bink. "Perhaps you have been struck by a poorly performed confundance charm."

Michael felt as though if Professor Bink said one more word he would honk. Professor Bink must have sensed that too for he dragged Michael down a flight of stairs and into the hospital corridor without another word. Two large doors greeted them at the end of the corridor. Professor Bink knocked firmly twice. Moments later, a young witch wearing white robes opened the door.

"This student needs a healer's attention. I believe he has been struck by a poorly managed confundance charm." said Professor Bink.

Without a word the witch ushered them into the ward then closed the door. She then lead Michael to a nearby bed.

"Lie down boy." said the witch in a soft voice.

Michael obeyed. The bed was soft but cool. The pillow felt good against his throbbing head. The wing was warm and dimly lit. A slight draft was coming from a nearby, slightly open, window. He watched as the witch walked back to the doors with Professor Bink as he spoke to her in hushed tones. Obviously, he was telling her how mental Michael was. Once Professor Bink was out of the wing she came back to Michael's beside.

"Definitely confunded." said the witch more to herself than to Michael. "I'll go fetch a potion that will fix you right."

The witch turned then headed to a closet where she entered and closed the door.

"What are you playing at?" said a voice to Michael's left.

Michael quickly looked around to see it was coming from a painting. A wizard in a long white robe and sweeping silver hair was being nudged out of the way by the wizard from the Headmaster's office. Michael sat up quickly then regretted his actions and got sick in a bin by the bed.

"Disgusting!" said the painting of the white robed wizard.

Michael wiped his mouth with a wash cloth from the bedside table. He felt extremely dizzy.

"Lie back down Mr. Wallace." said the painting of the wizard from the Headmaster's office.

"Who are you?" asked Michael. "You look familiar."

"It does not matter." replied the wizard. "What matters is why you were asking for people that to my knowledge do not nor have ever existed."

"I... I don't know! I'm so confused!" said Michael clasping his head with his hands.

"Answer me one question, Mr. Wallace." said the wizard. "Who is the grounds keeper?"

Michael lowered his hands and looked up at the wizard then replied, "Hagrid."

Neither wizard in the painting said a word. They only stared at Michael.

After a few minutes Michael broke the silence, "What did I say?"

"Never mind now." replied the wizard from the Headmaster's office.

"What does this mean?" asked the wizard in white robes.

"It means that you must fetch the Order, else the latter." replied the other wizard. "It cannot wait. You must go now. I must return to the Headmaster's office."

"What's going on?" asked Michael.

"You lie down Mr. Wallace. You will need your rest." replied the wizard in white robes.

Michael was too weary to argue and did as he was told and closed his eyes. When he opened them again light was beginning to pour through the windows. Long shadows crept up the opposing walls. Morning had come. At first Michael thought it had been a bad dream till he realized he was still in the hospital wing.

"You fell asleep before I could give you your potion." said the witch as she folded the sheets on the bed next to Michael's.

Michael looked over at the painting but it was empty. He rubbed his face with his hands and sat up.

"Feel any better?" asked the witch.

"Yes." lied Michael. "What time is it?"

"It's about –" started the witch but she suddenly and gracefully slumped to the floor like a sail being lowered from its mast.

Michael jumped up, staggering slightly and looked at her in horror.

"As she was saying, it's time to go."

Michael spun around to see a wizard with a long gray beard and wearing a traveling cloak.

"Who are you?" asked Michael.

"We might ask that of you." said a younger wizard with short black hair standing guard near the door.

"No time for questions. All will be answered shortly, I hope." said the first wizard.

The gray bearded wizard reached into his robes and pulled out a little black pouch. He untied the pouch and poured silver powder into the palm of his hand. He lifted his hand to his lips and blew. The powder flew into Michael's face and all went dark.

The next thing Michael remembered was waking up in a small room. He was lying on a cot looking up at the ceiling. As he looked around there were paintings on every wall, a tiny window behind his head and the door was located at the end of the cot nearest his feet. The room looked cozy as Michael sat up. The honey yellow walls and the hardwood floor made a contrast in color that was pleasant to the eye.

"Oh good. You're up." said the painting of an elf wearing a jacket. "I will fetch someone." Without another word the elf darted from his painting and out of sight.

Michael leaned over and placed his elbows on his knees so he could cup his head in his hand. He didn't know where he was or how he had gotten there. Faintly, he could hear two people talking. He listened and the voices seemed to be getting louder. Soon the voices of two men were outside his door.

"– whatever he wants to do." said one man.

"This should be interesting." replied the other man.

There was a knock at the door. "Come in." said Michael for what else could he do.

The door opened and two men walked in, one tall, one short, their robes sweeping around them.

"Ready to find out why you're here?" asked the taller of the two.

Michael just nodded.

"Good. So are we." said the shorter man. "Come with us."

Michael stood up and followed the two men out into a narrow hallway. He obeyed for there was nothing he could do against true wizards even if he had his wand. He felt in his pocket and to his surprise he still had it! ' _Did it not matter to these wizards to disarm a first year or did someone forget to take it_ ', thought Michael. He lowered his hands back to his side. The hallway was very cramped and had gotten to the point that the two men could not walk side-by-side anymore. At this point they motioned for Michael to walk between them. At the end of the hallway they downed a flight of stairs then turned into what looked like a kitchen. The smell of bacon lingered in the air. Inside there were several tables and about twelve witches and wizards sitting at them. The two wizards escorting Michael drew up two chairs and sat down. Michael was directed to a single chair between the tables where he took a seat.

"We would like to ask you a few questions, Mr. Wallace." said a middle-aged wizard sitting at the nearest table. His face looked hard and formidable.

"Where am I?" asked Michael.

"You are safe." replied the middle-aged wizard. "For now, that is all you need to know."

"Who are you?" asked Michael.

"You can call me Marcus."

"I just want to go home." said Michael, closing his eyes.

"Where is home for you Mr. Wallace?" asked Marcus.

"I don't know anymore." replied Michael. He was trying his hardest not to get upset. Feelings of panic were flowing through him like waves. He was hungry, confused, and felt as though he had sprinted a marathon.

"Would you like something to eat young man?" said a kind voice.

Michael looked up to see a young woman holding a plate of sausages, bacon, and mash. Michael hesitated then took the plate. "Thank you miss." said Michael as he took a bite of sausage. The young woman nodded and smiled then took a seat at one of the tables. They waited a few minutes for Michael to eat before continuing.

"Mr. Wallace," said Marcus "why –" a deliberate cough interrupted Marcus's question.

Everyone, including Michael, looked over to the near wall to see the painting of the wizard from the Headmaster's office hanging there and the old wizard stood there as though he was politely waiting to board a train. Michael thought he looked different. Taller, wiser, maybe even younger. Now he was wearing half-moon spectacles and his eyes were alive and a brilliant blue.

"Good morning." said the painting. "Marcus, might I ask the first question?"

"Of course, Albus." replied Marcus.

"Albus!" shouted Michael standing up and his plate spilling onto the floor. "Now I know who you are! Your Albus Dumbledore!" shouted Michael in excitement pointing and staring at the painting. "You're the wizard that –" began Michael but stopped when he saw half a dozen wands pointed at his chest.

"Stow away your wands!" growled Marcus. "He's just a boy. What is he going to do to a painting anyway?"

Dumbledore waited patiently for the commotion to cease and Michael to sit back down before continuing as though nothing had happened. "Mr. Wallace, you have been removed from the school so that we might discuss, more privately, whom you were looking for and why. You said that their names were Robbie Hughes and Albus Potter, correct?"

Hushed whispering broke out at the two tables. Michael looked at the congregated witches and wizards then back at the painting. Michael did not say a word but merely nodded.

"How do you know these two individuals?" asked Dumbledore.

"They are my friends. I just met them this year. They were sorted into Hufflepuff with me." replied Michael feeling very nervous and looking at the floor.

"Insanity! Utter insanity!" shouted a wizard from the back of the room as muttering broke out at both tables.

"Silence!" growled Marcus standing up.

"This is absolute nonsense." said another wizard standing up. "Hufflepuff. A Potter. Absolute rubbish. Clearly this boy has lost his mind." The wizard pointed at Michael.

"Or it's a trick!" said a witch standing up too. "We know who his father is. Maybe he is a spy to planted to help find us!"

"My father is dead!" shouted Michael standing up with his hands on the top of his head. "He died when I was just a baby! Where's my Uncle Ben?" Michael could not help it. Tears were streaming down his face. Surely, he must be going mad, he thought.

The room fell silent. Nobody said a word. Everyone just stared at Michael. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the painting of Dumbledore broke the silence.

"Marcus, please have the others leave us. Just you, myself, and the boy should remain I think." said Dumbledore in a soft tone.

"You heard Albus, everyone out." growled Marcus.

With a lot of muttering and some hard looks exchanged, eleven people left the room and exited into the hallway. Marcus closed the door to the kitchen behind them then took a seat and stared at Michael in a curious manner.

"Please sit down, Mr. Wallace." said Dumbledore in a kind voice.

Michael refused this time shaking his head. "Where's my Uncle Ben? Ben Wallace."

"Mr. Wallace, I have no idea how you know of your Uncle Ben. It's impossible that you've ever met him." said Marcus.

"How is it impossible? I live with him!" replied Michael looking at Marcus as though he was insane.

Marcus looked up at Dumbledore's painting then back at Michael with an expression as though he pitied him.

"Mr. Wallace, might I call you Michael?" asked Dumbledore and Michael nodded. "Michael, I'm going to ask for some patience of you. We will answer your questions once you have answered ours. Do we have a deal?" Michael only nodded for what could he do but comply. "Thank you. Now, what I'm about to ask may seem trivial but I assure you it will be most beneficial." When Michael did not protest, Dumbledore continued. "Please recount for us the battle of Hogwarts." Marcus looked as baffled as Michael. "If you please, Michael." Michael nodded then absentmindedly sat down.

"Well," began Michael "my uncle told me that the Battle of Hogwarts started when Harry Potter returned to the school after being on the run working against Lord –"

Marcus interrupted him, "DO NOT SAY HIS NAME!" Marcus shouted so loud that Michael fell out of his chair. Marcus picked Michael off the floor and helped him back into his seat. "Sorry. We do not speak his name. It is cursed." said Marcus gruffly.

"Just refer to him as You-Know-Who if you don't mind." said Dumbledore in a pleasant voice as though Marcus had not shouted.

"Uh... okay." replied Michael. Michael gathered himself for a moment before continuing. "Anyway... Harry Potter returned to Hogwarts to defeat, uh, You-Know-Who once and for all." Michael thought for a minute then continued. "While he was there the first battle began. Many died that night. You Know Who halted the battle and demanded Harry Potter meet him in the Forbidden Forest. Harry Potter went to face You Know Who in order to lure him and his followers out into the open by faking his own death then the second battle began. Once all of You-Know-Who's followers had fled, were captured, or killed Harry Potter and You Know Who faced off in the center of the Great Hall where he defeated You Know Who once and for all. At least... that's... what... I was told." Finished Michael hesitantly looking at the faces of both Marcus and Dumbledore who were frowning hard.

"When did your Uncle Ben tell you this story?" asked Dumbledore in an intense tone.

"When I was a boy. He recounted it many times. It was one of his favorite stories." replied Michael looking puzzled and feeling nervous.

"That's not what happened." replied Marcus shaking his head. "Harry Potter died in the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid carried his body out. Neville Longbottom charged You-Know-Who. Just as You-Know-Who was about to execute Longbottom we charged the castle. Even though we outnumbered his followers three-to-one, You-Know-Who was too powerful for us. Those of us that weren't killed were captured including myself. No one tried to leg it. We were committed till death. He forced us to watch as all those close to Harry Potter were executed on the spot. You-Know-Who wasn't content with using the killing curse. The stones of Hogwarts ran red with blood that day. I was sentenced to Azkaban. I was there for three years until a group of Resistance organized a mass breakout. That's when I joined the New Order and began resisting the Ministry and You-Know-Who from the underground."

"You're all mad!" said Michael in a hollow voice. He looked up at Dumbledore's painting to see him down on one knee, holding his face with his hands.

"We're not mad Michael." replied Marcus. "The question is, are you? Your fairy tale happy ending never happened. People you claim to know are dead or never existed." Marcus turned his gaze to Dumbledore's painting. "Why have you risked us to bring him here?"

"Because... because there is something... something I cannot explain to you right now. Call it a hunch." replied Dumbledore not looking at Marcus or Michael.

"A hunch?" replied Marcus, anger in his voice. "You brought him here on a hunch? Or is this some desperate reach?"

"What you do not understand Marcus is that what that young man just recounted is the way it was SUPPOSED TO HAVE HAPPENED!" replied Dumbledore standing up and glaring at Marcus with tear stained cheeks. "I have always felt that something, somehow, had went flawed. The many experiences I had in life taught me that questions are not always answered immediately. However, if we wait and are vigilant the answer will one day present itself and I believe my answer has come. I believe that there is more to this boy than we just yet comprehend."

"You leave a lot to chance Dumbledore." replied Marcus.

"Not chance." replied Dumbledore. "Observe." Dumbledore turned his attentions to Michael. "Michael, what became of Professor Severus Snape?"

"Uh... I believe he died at the hands of, um, You Know Who." replied Michael confused.

"When did he die?" asked Dumbledore shrewdly.

"After the first Battle of Hogwarts, I think." replied Michael. "What does that have to do with me? Why don't you remember this yourself? What happened to Hogwarts? Where's my uncle?"

"My dear boy this has everything to do with you, as I expected. We do not remember what you are telling us because it is not what happened in our past." replied Dumbledore now pacing in his painting.

"What do you mean, our past? How is his past different?" asked Marcus.

"He's the one. The one we've been waiting for." replied Dumbledore not looking anyone.

"What? How?" asked Marcus looking at Michael in disbelief.

"His mind holds the key to changing it all." replied Dumbledore as he stopped pacing. "Michael, did Draco Malfoy die in the first battle?"

"Malfoy's father? No, he's the Head Wizard at Gringotts, I think." replied Michael even more confused.

A broad smile broke across Dumbledore's face. "Just as I thought. There's the key."

"Now I'm lost." said Marcus as he rubbed his eyes.

"Think Marcus, think!" snapped Dumbledore. "I've told you before, after Harry Potter died in the Forbidden Forest and Draco Malfoy died at the hands of You-Know-Who, I lost the loyalty of Severus Snape forever." Dumbledore was nearly skipping as he paced again. "He never told me how Draco died but I always suspected that Lucius Malfoy was behind it. Now I'm sure of it!"

"His own father?" replied Marcus in disbelief. "Why and how do you come to this conclusion?"

"Because Mr. Wallace here, has memories that alter from ours. Memories that suggest time travel!" replied Dumbledore as he stopped his pacing but kept his eyes shut.

"How?" replied Marcus. "Only the time traveler and... have any knowledge of the previous events..." Marcus's voice trailed away as comprehension dawned his face.

"Time traveler? I'm no time traveler, am I?" asked Michael, confused more now than ever before and scared.

"No." replied Dumbledore as he opened his eyes to look at Michael. "Not yet."

* * *

 **A/N: And there's the fourth chapter. Please review and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!**


	5. Visiting Home

**Between Legends and Lies:  
The Journey**

 **Chapter Five: Visiting Home**

The kitchen was a warm and inviting room. Brass pots suspended from the ceiling glistened as the sun shone through a high arching window. Swept and polished floors gave the impression you could eat from them. The spotless counter tops looked as though nothing had ever been prepared upon them. Michael however, felt cold and to him the room had lost its cheer. He was confused and scared. The point where his head had met the sink started to throb again.

"Might I have a word with you Dumbledore?" asked Marcus politely but sternly.

"Certainly!" replied Dumbledore with a pleasant smile.

"In private?" growled Marcus as he glanced at Michael.

"So sorry, of course." replied Dumbledore as he nodded. "Winky!" cried Dumbledore.

With a _crack_ , a small house elf appeared. "You called, Master Dumbledore?"

"Please escort young Mr. Wallace to the sitting room where he can wait with the others," said Dumbledore politely.

"Very well, Master. Anything else you require of Winky?" asked the tiny elf.

"That will be all, Winky. Thank you," replied Dumbledore as he placed one hand on the side of the canvas.

"Please follow me, Master Wallace." said the elf to Michael.

"Why should I?" asked Michael, staring at Dumbledore's painting. "You have not answered one bloody question!" shouted Michael. He was scared but he was not going to show it. "All I want to do right now is go home!"

Dumbledore looked at Michael sadly. Marcus's face was impassive as he stared at Michael. Winky the house elf was visibly scared for she was trembling.

"Home as you know it Michael, no longer exists." replied Dumbledore softly. "The school you attended is no more."

Michael sat down on the floor, pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms around his legs, and buried his face into his lap. He did not want them to see him cry. ' _This was just a dream'_ , thought Michael. ' _It had to be a dream!'_ Someone touched Michael on the shoulder with just the tips of their fingers. Michael did not look up. He shrugged his shoulders fiercely. Tears were flowing down his face. All he wanted was to see his uncle.

"Michael." said Marcus in a soft tone. Michael would not look up but just shook his head. "Go with Winky. Dumbledore and I need to discuss how we can get you home."

Michael drew his hands into his lap so he could wipe his face before looking up. Marcus was kneeling in front of him. A clock on the wall chimed and Michael looked up to see that it was eleven o'clock. At that moment, several things happened all at once. The ring that his uncle had given him began to tingle. Michael made to remove the ring but couldn't. Suddenly, it felt as though all the air in the room was sucked out then violently blown back in. The force of it threw Michael backwards, lifted him into the air, then he collided with the far wall face first. Something large and heavy slammed against his back knocking the breath out of him. Blood poured into his mouth from his broken nose. Pieces of what must be ceiling were hitting him on the head.

"Come on!" shouted Marcus as he lifted himself up off Michael.

The sound of a canon blast rang in Michael's ear as Marcus fired a spell from his wand at someone or something Michael couldn't see. Debris filled the air as clouds of black ash. Michael felt Marcus start to pull him up when he heard a faint voice, "Marcus". It was the painting of Dumbledore. Marcus pointed his wand into the cloud of debris then let go of Michael and caught the flying painting. With Dumbledore's painting in one hand, Marcus wrapped his other arm around Michael's neck. Michael thought Marcus was choking him at first but then realized his entire body was being squeezed and compressed. Just as Michael accepted he must be dying the compressing feeling was gone. Michael's knees hit hardwood floor and Marcus released him, rolling over and gasping for breath.

Michael wiped the blood from his nose and looked up. He closed his eyes and opened them again for he could not believe what he was seeing. He was in a cottage of sorts complete with doilies and little white curtains. Michael staggered to his feet. Marcus had just pulled himself into a chair and laid Dumbledore's painting on a nearby table. Marcus began examining his right leg. Michael looked down then wished he hadn't. A large piece of wood was sticking out of it and Michael could clearly see the bone.

"If you're going to be sick, do it elsewhere." said Marcus after seeing Michael's expression.

"Michael, if you can spare a moment, would you mind propping me up so that I might see?" asked Dumbledore casually.

Michael walked slowly over to the table, not looking at Marcus's leg, and picked up the painting. The left boarder of the painting was gone. Michael propped the painting up in a chair. They were in a kitchen though not much separated that from the sitting room. A small flight of stairs to the right of the kitchen lead upstairs to probably bedrooms.

"What happened?" asked Michael as he looked at Dumbledore who was holding his head in his hands again.

"You-Know-Who happened!" replied Marcus as he grunted and pulled the wood from his leg. "Somehow his followers found us."

"We stayed there too long." said Dumbledore. "The Order had been there for a fortnight. We should have moved last week."

"That was the fastest they've found us yet." said Marcus. "How are they finding us?"

"What about the others?" asked Michael thinking of all the people that had been in the kitchen only a short time ago.

"We'll know soon enough." replied Marcus in a shallow voice. He was waving his wand over his leg and hummed a tune of sorts.

Suddenly, something silvery shot through the sitting room window and sat on the floor. It was a fox. The silvery fox opened its mouth and a woman's voice said, "Almost everyone made it out. We lost Barley and Stow." In a pop, the fox was gone.

"Ahhhhhhhh!" cried Marcus as he pounded the table with his fist. He ran his wand hand through his hair.

"Who was Barley and Stow?" asked Michael not looking at anyone.

Dumbledore sighed, "They were the two wizards that fetched you from the school."

Michael jumped to see Marcus's wand pointed at his face. There was a burst of white light then a hot burning sensation covered Michael's face. Michael grabbed his face to find that his nose no longer hurt.

"You were starting to swell," said Marcus to Michael's blank expression.

"You fixed my nose. Thanks," said Michael but Marcus ignored him.

"Where's the scotch?" asked Marcus as he looked around.

"I believe it is in the cabinet over the sink," replied Dumbledore disapprovingly.

Marcus got up and limped over to the cabinets. To Michael's utter shock, his leg was completely mended, at least on the outside. Marcus got out three glasses and sat them on the table along with a bottle of scotch. He unstoppered the bottle and poured half a glass each. He did not look at Dumbledore or Michael but grasped one glass in his hands and bowed his head before downing the drink.

"It's an old custom," said Dumbledore looking at Michael. "Drinking to the fallen warriors. One glass for each of the fallen."

"How many more poor souls will fall for the cause, Dumbledore?" asked Marcus as he poured himself another round.

"The loss of life is part of living though I do admit that the casualty rate is quite grim," replied Dumbledore looking down at something on the floor.

" _GRIM_?" shouted Marcus. "This is all you have to say? When will it end? When we are all _DEAD_?"

"Death is not the end, Marcus. However, lives shortened dramatically as two were today is not acceptable." replied Dumbledore kindly.

"Give us a _SOLUTION_ old man!" growled Marcus. "I grow weary of all this. If this is my life forever more then I should just say his name and be done with it!"

"The solution stands before us, I think." replied Dumbledore staring at Michael. "Now we must do what is necessary. It is the price we pay for our souls."

An hour passed in silence. No one said a word. Michael cleaned his face with a wet towel then sat, leaning his arms on the table. Dumbledore bowed his head in his frame and Marcus continued to drink till the bottle was empty.

Understanding none of what had been said, Michael broke the silence and asked, "Where are we?"

"A little cottage in Tobermory," replied Marcus. "On the island of Mull."

Before Marcus or Dumbledore could say a word, Michael had dashed out the front door. The sunlight blinded Michael. He rubbed his eyes and his surroundings came into focus. In an instant, he knew where he was. Michael darted up the empty street, headed towards the one place on his mind, home. Marcus tore out the door behind Michael but Michael was rounding the corner and headed towards the bay and #2 Albert Street. Marcus dared not holler out but pursued as fast as his wounded leg would permit. Michael did not even notice the lack of people or noise. All he could think of was home and his uncle. Michael turned onto Albert Street and slid to a stop at #2. Michael tried to open the door but it was locked. He pulled out his wand and cried, " _Confringo!_ " The door blew off its hinges. Marcus had just turned the corner and stopped dead when he saw this. Michael ran through the open door and up the stairs. The flat was completely empty.

"What is the matter with you boy!" growled Marcus as he entered the flat.

Michael turned to see Marcus's wand pointed at him. Michael dropped his wand immediately.

"What are you doing?" asked Michael nervously.

"Why did you drop your wand?" asked Marcus in turn, not lowering his wand.

"Because you're pointing your wand at me!" replied Michael, a little exasperated.

"You just blew the doors off its hinges down below but you drop your wand at the sight of me?" said Marcus. "Anyone who can do that should be able to defend themselves."

"I uh... well... that was my first time performing that spell and I haven't been taught to duel yet!" replied Michael in frustration.

"I take it you knew who lived here?" asked Marcus looking around after he lowered his wand.

"I did... do... " replied Michael as he looked at the floor.

"Spacious," said Marcus looking around the tiny flat.

"My uncle used an Undetectable Extension Charm on the place," replied Michael who felt very uncomfortable. "Marcus, where's my uncle?"

"I... I don't know," replied Marcus. "Michael, you and I don't seem to share the same past as hard as that is to comprehend. Maybe we'll figure it out together." Marcus turned towards the staircase. "Grab your wand and let's go. And don't ever do that again, understand?"

"I won't run off again," replied Michael.

"I meant don't drop your wand!" replied Marcus as he walked down the steps.

Michael and Marcus exited the flat and turned up the street. Michael now noticed that there was no one to be seen. Stores were boarded up and litter covered the street.

"Where is everyone?" asked Michael.

"They left. Without anyone to protect them, the Muggles had no choice but to flee Britain. Muggle slaying is a sport to some," replied Marcus holding his wand at the ready. "Being your age, I understand why you say you don't know how to duel but how is it you could perform that spell so well?"

"I dunno," shrugged Michael. "I practiced that spell with just a practice wand before now."

"Well, it's time you learned how to duel. You're going to need it, I'm afraid." said Marcus in a harsh tone.

"You said Muggles had to leave Britain. What about Muggle-borns?" asked Michael thinking of Robbie.

"Muggle-borns that fell for the registration act were stripped of their wands and cast into the streets like dogs or worse. The most powerful Muggle-borns were caught and killed, or fled. One died this morning," replied Marcus, biting his lip at the thought of it.

They walked the rest of the way without a word. Michael was thinking about how Robbie's parents were probably killed. The shear thought made his head ache. To accept this reality was to admit that all this was not just a dream. When they reached the cottage, Marcus threw Michael up against a nearby wall, pressing his outstretched arm against Michael's chest and motioning for silence. Marcus stared at the cottage and so did Michael. There was definitely someone moving inside. A shadow passed over the front window of the cottage.

"Wand out," said Marcus.

"I don't know how to duel!" replied Michael. "What should I do?"

Marcus gave him a sinister smile, "If needed, treat anyone in that cottage like you did that door."

Michael swallowed hard but nodded. Marcus proceeded slowly towards the cottage, ducking down and following a hedge row that led from the street to the front stoop. Michael followed closely, mimicking Marcus's movements. Upon reaching the door Marcus flicked his wand and the door flung open. He leaped through the open door and a flash of red light illuminated the room.

Michael bit his lower lip then stepped into the cottage, his wand held in front of him. There on the floor laid Marcus, a woman bent over him. She had not noticed Michael. Just as Michael had mustered his courage she looked up.

"Stupefy!" cried Michael, pointing his wand at the witch.

The witch had cast a spell at the exact same time. The two spells collided in mid-air sending sparks flying in every direction. Michael went to cast another spell but Marcus had risen back to his feet and stood between the two, his arms flung wide.

"Stand down Michael! She's one of us!" shouted Marcus.

"I… I didn't know," replied Michael, putting his wand away.

"Don't apologize," said the witch pushing Marcus aside. "That was some advanced magic for one so young."

"Don't I know you from somewhere?" asked Michael as he squinted at her face. She was very beautiful and very familiar. Michael knew that he had seen her before, but where he could not place.

"I think I would have remembered. You being so - gifted," replied the witch.

"Michael, this is Eva Patil. She is part of the New Order," said Marcus as he pushed past both of them and closed the front door. "Be glad he doesn't follow orders - yet. Else we would be picking up bits of you."

Michael shook her hand though he was positive, above all else, that he had seen her before.

"You sound disappointed. Did you wish for this to happen?" asked Eva as she gave Marcus a flirtive look.

Marcus did not answer her but addressed Michael, "Why did you merely attempt to stun her?"

"Confringo would have killed her," replied Michael defensively.

Eva raised her eyebrows and looked even more impressed however, Marcus's face soured.

"Had she been one of _You-Know-Who's_ followers you'd be dead," He growled. "And you're wrong. Confringo _may_ have killed her."

"You'd be dead too," replied Michael. "Looked to me like she got the jump on you when I came in."

Marcus sighed, "More the reason to strike swiftly. What say you, Dumbledore?"

They all turned from the middle of the sitting room and looked towards the kitchen area to the painting that stood propped up in a chair. Dumbledore jerked his head up and opened his eyes, "So sorry. Must have dozed off. What be the topic?"

Marcus roared with frustration and trotted up the stairs and slammed a door to one of the bedrooms. Michael walked over to the kitchen table and sat down. Eva walked over to the sink and began making a cup of tea.

"Can, uh, _You-Know-Who's_ followers find us here?" asked Michael to the room at large.

"Eventually, yes." replied Dumbledore. "We have many enchantments surrounding this place just as we did the flat in London. The problem is that _You Know Who_ has the entire power of the Ministry in his control." Michael sat down in a vacant kitchen chair and closed his eyes. "Michael, go upstairs and lie down while you can in an available bed."

Michael quickly opened his eyes, "I'll be alright."

"Michael, you ought to do as Dumbledore says." said Eva Patil. "Who knows how quickly we might have to depart here."

Michael closed his eyes again but could not imagine sleeping. All he could see was the empty flat at #2 Albert Street every time he closed his eyes. All he could smell was the debris from the attack and feel Marcus's arm around his throat. Suddenly, the image of Professor Gimp sitting at a desk flashed before him. Anger surged through Michael. Eva Patil shrieked and Michael jumped up, his eyelids flung open. Michael was still holding his wand. A fire was burning on the area rug in the sitting room. Eva withdrew her wand and extinguished the flames with a burst of water.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" asked Marcus as he stumbled down the stairs holding his wand a loft.

"Apparently Mr. Wallace is just as dangerous asleep as he is awake," replied Dumbldore in a casual tone. "And suddenly... yes... _very_." Dumbledore stared at Michael over his half-moon spectacles. "Marcus, it's time to teach Michael here how to focus and master his powers."

"Alright then," said Marcus striding into the sitting room, running his hand through his hair then turning to face Michael. "Stow away your wand, have a seat, and tell me the all the spells you've been taught."

Michael hesitated before sitting, glanced at Eva, but did not put away his wand. Marcus licked his lips and Michael could tell he did not take well to people disobeying his instructions.

"Eva, you look tired. Why don't you go upstairs and rest," said Dumbledore kindly.

"Okay," replied Eva "but next time all you have to do is ask me to leave the room."

Eva smiled at Dumbledore, winked at Michael and Marcus, then headed upstairs.

"What is it about Miss Patil that bothers you, Michael?" asked Dumbledore once he heard a bedroom door shut.

"I don't know." replied Michael. "I've seen her somewhere before but I don't remember where. I can't tell anymore what's real and what's not."

"What do you mean what's real?" asked Marcus with his arms folded.

"Marcus, try to understand. Michael may still not grasp yet what is going on. It seems that his memories and ours contrast greatly," said Dumbledore with a hint of frustration at Marcus's lack of understanding.

"How do we know that he's not just some nutter? He is a Wallace," said Marcus harshly.

"WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSE TO MEAN?" shouted Michael standing up.

Michael was still holding his wand and red sparks flew out of the tip. Marcus pointed his wand at Michael's chest.

"He meant nothing by it Michael," said Dumbledore calmly. "Please sit down."

"Why should I bother teaching him anything? He's just an eleven-year-old boy," said Marcus lowering his wand. "Thinking he could change any of this is ludicrous."

"What did you mean by 'I'm a Wallace'?" asked Michael staring at Marcus.

"You'll find out sooner or later so it might as well be now," replied Marcus ignoring Dumbledore's glare. "Michael, I don't know if any of them are related to you or not but the only Wallaces I know of are You-Know-Who supporters."

Michael felt anger rising again, "My family are not _You-Know-Who_ supporters."

"I didn't say they were. I'm just saying that the only ones I know, are. Wallace is a popular surname," replied Marcus shrugging.

"Must be. That Professor Bink thought he knew my father and he's been dead for years," replied Michael sitting back down.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and Marcus resumed as though nothing had happened, "Okay, what spells do you know?"

Michael thought hard. "I know Stupefy, Confringo, Immobulus, Expelliarmus, Accio, Alohomora, Lumos, and Protego. Oh yeah, and Confundus."

"But you've only tried Stupefy and Confringo, correct?" asked Marcus squinting at Michael.

"I tried Lumos once in my dorm after I first got to school," replied Michael.

"Interesting group of spells. Don't you think Marcus?" asked Dumbledore.

Marcus ignored this. "Stand up and let's begin."

Michael stood up and began practicing with Marcus. Michael practiced deflecting spells and attempting to disarm or stun Marcus. He practiced all the way up till supper time. Michael hadn't even noticed that Eva had come down and was sitting silently observing.

"Not bad," said Marcus after Michael deflected a stunning spell for the fourth time in a row. "Be better if you could perform non-verbal spells but that's way too advanced to teach you now."

Michael felt so confident after performing all those new spells he closed his eyes and pointed his wand at Marcus while thinking, _Stupefy_. Marcus laughed but only for a moment. Suddenly, a red light burst from the tip of Michael's wand and hit Marcus square in the chest so hard that it lifted him off his feet and he slammed into the front door. Eva shrieked and ran to Marcus. Michael fell to his knees when he saw what he had done.

"Are you okay?" Michael heard Eva ask Marcus. Marcus slowly rolled up to his knees and coughed.

"That was bloody amazing!" cried Marcus pushing Eva back. "If you can do that... why not the hard stuff!"

"NO!" shouted Dumbledore. "He's too young!"

Michael stood up feeling excited. "Too young for what?"

"Too young for curses, particularly unforgivable curses." replied Dumbledore standing up tall in his painting.

"If he can perform a non-verbal spell-" started Marcus but Dumbledore interrupted.

"It's not about his talent, it's about his age. No child should have to know such curses. No man should either for that matter."

Dumbledore's face was stern. Marcus did not speak but nodded in agreement. Michael wondered what a painting could have over someone like Marcus to make him change his mind this way. Frustrated, Michael stowed away his wand and followed Eva and Marcus into the kitchen to see what they might eat. Turned out to be not much. The little cottage did not have much to offer. A bit of soup and bread was all there was. Eva assured Michael that she would fetch more food if they were to stay there long.

After supper Eva moved Dumbledore's painting from the kitchen table to over the fireplace in the sitting room. Dumbledore's painting had been damaged during the attack in London so he couldn't leave to visit his other portraits. Marcus said he would try to repair it in the morning.

Michael went upstairs to pick out a bedroom. There was four to choose from. Michael picked the one with a window facing the north. He was very tired. He laid down on the bed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again the clock on the wall said 4:00AM. Michael got up and stretched. He walked out into the upstairs hallway. There was a light on downstairs and Michael could hear voices. Michael eased down the stairs to listen.

"It's ludicrous. Haven't you learned yet that a boy cannot do a man's job?" asked Marcus.

"It's not about his age," replied Dumbledore. "There's a reason he has these memories. I'm certain of it."

"So, when do you plan to try and do this?" asked Marcus.

"I can't. You must," replied Dumbledore.

"How. Time travel is impossible without a time turner," said Marcus.

"We have one," replied Dumbledore simply.

"What? Why haven't you told me?" asked Marcus in disbelief.

"The information wasn't necessary," replied Dumbledore.

"You have to stop keeping secrets from me," said Marcus gruffly. "So, when did you plan on sending him on this trip of insanity?"

Michael swallowed hard as he listened, trying his hardest not to move a muscle. His mouth was dry and his heart was pounding.

"I don't plan on sending him alone. You're going with him," replied Dumbledore.

* * *

 **A/N: And there's the fifth chapter. Please review and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!**


End file.
